6 Carry on Wayward Road, Spiderwebs, Dust, and Cobwebs
by skyyador
Summary: TRIGGER WARNINGS: graphic details are most likely. rape, depression, suicide idealization, abuse, child abuse, language, just about anything goes in my writings. Follow along with the Winchester brothers as they learn to fight another day, push through life. A continuation of Carry on Wayward Road series. EDITED for minor corrections and paragraph length
1. Chapter 1

CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD

SPIDERWEBS, DUST, AND COBWEBS

CHAPTER 1

It felt like they had been driving for weeks. Sam wasn't sure why he was feeling so agitated, he was used to the long drives. He was used to sitting in the front, passenger seat, his brother at his side behind the wheel. His brother's choice of music playing, nonstop, changing in volume depending on what mood struck at different moments.

The same black leather seats he spent his entire life in, the same black, leather dash he spent years staring at. The same windshield he's seen hundreds of miles through. The same door he spent hours leaning his body against, sleeping against the window that was attached to the door. It wasn't any different than any other day.

They had stopped sometime during the night, pulled into a safe spot on the side of an old dirt road, grabbing a couple hours of sleep, giving his brother a chance to rest his eyes before continuing on. The sun had graced the sky with its presence. Turning the once darkness into blinding, bright light, causing Sam to squint his eyes.

Dean had put on his sunglasses, not letting the sun stop his comfort behind the wheel. The road they were on, had minimal traffic. Somehow, Dean managed to find his way around the states with minimal contact to the main roads as possible. He had a problem with patience, especially when it came to traffic. Sam wasn't sure how, but his brother was like a living GPS.

Even if he hadn't been somewhere before, he seemed to always know his way. The road was lined with bright green trees. The grass growing up around the trees, like it was trying to compete, trying to grow as tall as everything else around it. The small purple flowers that filled the empty spaces between the grass blades, didn't seem to mind their size. They were happy, blooming, living their lives small, almost unrecognizable except for their color that varied from all the other browns and greens that surrounded them.

It was a rather warm day, the windows were up, air conditioner set to a comfortable temperature. Sam was sure if he rolled his window down he would hear the birds chirping and the springtime come alive right outside of his car. The day was almost perfect. He was sure if he wasn't in the car, maybe if he was taking a slow stroll through a park or something than the day would be even more perfect.

Maybe, he thought, if Jess was still around, this would be a perfect day to enjoy a romantic walk, followed by a picnic, maybe stopping at a pond to feed some ducks. He started to remember how much Jess loved the springtime. How much she loved watching the new growth, watching the world come alive from the darkness of winter.

It had been awhile since he allowed Jess to grace his memories. He wasn't sure why he was thinking so hard about her this particular morning. Perhaps, it was because he was longing for something more, something more than this long road that seemed to be endless. Or, perhaps because, for some unknown reason, he was aggravated.

He wasn't sure what was putting him in an ill mood, maybe it was knowing that no matter how perfect the day seemed, their lives would never match the world's beauty. He just needed some fresh air, he had decided. He had spent too much time cooped up in the car. As much as their car was home to him, he needed a break, needed to breath something besides the smell of freshly polished leather and exhaust fumes.

He rolled his window down, trying to let a fresh breeze in through the window, maybe the perfectness of the day would rub off on their lives, maybe, just for once, they would be able to have a perfect day, but judging by the mood he was currently sporting, he was sure it was only a wish and would never become reality. When did the Winchester luck ever give them good luck?

Dean began to notice his brother's unsettling behavior. He was shifting in his seat, constant changing positions, like he wasn't able to become comfortable. Dean was fine, he always felt the most comfortable behind the wheel of his baby. The temperature inside was perfect, until Sam rolled his window down, letting both the warmth of the day and the cool breeze combined with the temperature Dean had been enjoying.

He wasn't too thrilled about it, but could sense something felt off about his brother. He had tried to call his name, without any response. It was obvious he was lost in thought, lost in some memory, or mesmerized by the scenery outside. Either way, his brother hadn't heard Dean attempt to pull him back to the present.

He decided, they still had awhile before hitting the next town, he would let his brother remain in his state of weirdness, in whatever had his mind occupied so heavily. Didn't matter, Dean decided, it wasn't like they had anything particular to talk about anyhow. Dean knew things hadn't been easy for Sam lately, hell, it hadn't been easy for Dean either.

The difference, Dean shoves everything into a secret box, locked with double locks, with a big sign that reads 'do not open', Sam on the other hand, he was more of the 'sharing and caring' type. He couldn't just push the hardship away, not like Dean did. He had to release his emotions, let his thoughts and feelings be known. He wouldn't be able to get over whatever was bothering him if he didn't let everything out. And for Sam to hold things inside, it wasn't always the best.

Dean had learned that when they were younger. He had endured endless hours of listening to his brother ramble on about pointless things, or about emotions Dean tried to block out, sometimes he would listen with interest, sometimes he tried to ignore his brother's babbling as much as possible, but either way, he always let him talk, always let him do what needed to be done to keep his little brother happy.

Sam wasn't so opened to Dean's coping abilities. He couldn't understand how his brother could cope with life without sharing everything he felt. He didn't understand how anyone could push away the feelings, the memories, the way Dean did, and still manage to be as strong as his brother was. Dean knew Sam idolized him, but honestly, Dean couldn't understand why because he secretly idolized Sam.

Sam was able to stand up to anyone, including their dad. He was able to step out on his own, attempt to become his own person, make a life for himself, a life without hunting. But, once you got involved in the life, it wasn't that easy to escape it. Once you knew there were real monsters out there, it wasn't an easy thing to forget. Dean began to wonder about all the people they had saved, all the people who didn't have a choice but to believe in monsters, the ones who have seen them personally.

He wondered how many of them choose to forget. How many of them told themselves it wasn't real, how many tried to go back to normal life but couldn't, and how many became hunters. Entering the world of monsters would change you forever, one way or another, you would be changed. Not everyone's lives would be changed as much as the Winchester's, but would be changed none the less.

All it took was just a quick moment. A normal day, a normal night, and one quick moment while everyone slept, to change their lives forever. Dean could still remember the smell. He could remember the smell of the fire, the burning of drywall and wood, the smell of burnt flesh. He remembered the cries of his little brother, and he remembered the smell of his baby brother.

The soft, gentle baby smell that filled Sammy's blanket and clothes as he gripped him tight, standing outside the house, watching his brother's room burn, with his mom trapped inside. He wasn't sure where his dad was at, not until he seemed to come out of nowhere, grabbing Dean in his arms and rushing the 3 of them away from the house.

Just a moment, one quick moment of panic and sheer fear, and their lives were changed forever. Jess. Dean wasn't sure why he suddenly thought about Jess. She was his brother's love, the love of his life. He remembers how much his heart sunk when he found out Sam had planned to propose to her. He loved her enough he was wanting to spend all of eternity with her, never wanting to leave her, for the rest of his life.

He was ready to spend the rest of his life with one woman. Dean would never admit it to his brother, but he blamed himself for Jess's death. He wondered, if he didn't come to Sam, request his help, then maybe he would have been there, maybe he would have been able to save the love of his life.

But, he knew his dad had been there when his mom was killed the same way, and he wasn't able to save the love of his life, why would Sam and Jess be any different? But, he still couldn't help but wonder, what if. That was one thing Sam had chosen not to talk about, the one thing that he kept hidden, kept locked away. Dean still didn't know much about Sam's years at college, didn't know details about his and Jess's relationship. He knew he loved her, but also knew what had happened, hurt Sam, and he wasn't going to push it.

There was no way he was going to push his little brother into talking about something that would cause him so much pain. Sure, there had been countless times Sam had pushed Dean into painful conversations, but that was different. Dean was more than willing to cause himself a little pain, a little discomfort, as long as his brother was happy, he would do anything for Sammy.

He knew his brother knew that, he knew his brother used that knowledge against him, but secretly, in a non-chick flick way, he didn't mind his brother pushing him into talking. He knew it was the only way he would ever open up and talk about his feelings anyhow. But, right now, he was needing to figure out how to get his little brother to talk to him.

It was obvious, something was aggravating him, and he needed to get to the bottom of it. They were on their way to a hunt, sure it would be awhile before they arrived at their destination, but he needed his brother's head in the game. He needed him to be clear headed.

They have had a lot of distractions over the past year or so, distractions that weren't easy to forget about, but once again, Dean just locked it all away, and listened to his brother vent and babble on about everything they had faced, everything they had talked about, everything they had learned about each other and their lives.

Dean was tired of all the girly moments. He was ready to feel like a real man again. Ready to get his hands dirty, visit a bar, get drunk, find some decent looking woman to have a one-night stand with, and kill some fuggly monsters. Yeah, that's what Dean needed. He needed to get his boots dirty again, needed to get back into the game, go back to their normal hunts. Not any of this crap they had been faced with lately.

Sam couldn't believe they were still driving. How damn long was this road anyhow? Had Dean decided to bypass the nearest town? Had he decided he was going to just do whatever he wanted to do? Not give a damn about Sam's needs? He hadn't even stopped to ask him if he needed to use the bathroom. He didn't, but how did Dean know that?

Dean should be able to tell he was tired of being in the car. He should know he needed a break. Why the hell couldn't they have stopped for a room last night? Why did Dean insist on driving all night? Why did it have to be so damn warm outside? Why couldn't it be a cool, dark, gloomy day, to match his mood?

Maybe some rain would be nice. Maybe it would wash away the wariness out of him. Maybe it would make Dean stop driving, get out of the car for a while, stretch their legs, do something, anything, besides sit in this damn seat. He was beginning to feel like he couldn't breathe, like the fresh air was suffocating him.

He rolled his window back up, turned the air conditioning on full blast. He went from being too warm to being too cold. He seemed oblivious about his brother's needs. He didn't care. He didn't care if Dean was too cold. He wasn't sure why, he didn't have a reason not to care, but, he just didn't.

Maybe it was this damn hunt they were going on? Why was it taking so long? He knew they had to drive across several states to get there, but it never seemed like it took this long. He never felt so entrapped by the four doors of the car before.

The trees that lined the road seemed to be laughing at him now, they seemed to be bending over, mocking him. Making him feel claustrophobic, making the car seem to shrink in size. Causing his seat to feel like a hard piece of wood, like maybe one of the trees snuck into the car, placing its bark under his body, taking away the comfort of the seat he once sat in.

Couldn't Dean see the trees? Couldn't he feel them creeping into the impala? Filling every empty space there was? The long grass competing for foot space on the floorboard. Panic was beginning to rise, he wasn't sure how he was going to get out of this. He was alone, surrounded by the trees and branches and grass from outside, they must have entered when he had the window down, sneaking in, growing, making the interior equivalent to the outside.

Dean swung the car to an open shoulder on the side of the road, slamming his breaks. Sam hadn't even realized Dean had stopped. The sudden breaking never registered in his mind. It only took a moment for Dean to turn off the purring of the motor, remove himself from his seat, and appear at Sam's door. He flung it opened, reached over and unbuckled his seatbelt, and had hauled Sam out of his seat onto the unforgiving ground.

"SAM!" Dean shouted at him, giving him a hard shake. "Sam!" he repeated, until he saw a small sign of Sam acknowledging his brother's words. "Hey man, come back to me." Dean started pleading.

Once Sam looked into Dean's eyes, letting him know he was returning back to reality, Dean continued trying to get a response from his brother.

"What the hell, man? What's gotten into you?"

He gave Sam a moment to reply, but there was no verbal reply from his brother, he was trying to catch his breath, giving some long, hard blinks to clear his mind.

"You good?" Dean asked, not accepting anything but a response from his brother.

Sam nodded his head, still trying to figure out what the hell just happened, finally, with a voice that sounded like he had been screaming for hours he forced out the words Dean needed to hear.

"Yeah, I'm good."

Dean gave him a pat on the shoulder, thankful for the words, even if they were strained, he knew that meant his brother was back to himself enough to speak, to think straight enough to answer a question that he was able to understand.

"Dude," Dean began again, "What the hell man?"

Sam just shook his head slowly, giving a shrug of his shoulders. "Did you pass a town?" That was all Sam could think of to say.

"We have about five to ten minutes before we arrive at the next town." Dean informed him, receiving a nod from Sam, Dean continued. "I could tell something was wrong, you seemed uneasy for some reason, I planned on stopping in the next town we came to, get some fuel and food, give you a break from the trip or whatever you needed, but then, man, you just started having a panic attack or something. You sure you're alright?"

Dean was concerned, he wasn't sure what had set his brother off, and by judging things, it seemed his brother wasn't sure what caused it either.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You wanna talk about it?"

He didn't usually ask if Sam wanted to talk, he knew if his brother wanted to talk about something, nothing Dean could say or do would stop him, but this was different. Sam seemed closed off.

"I… I don't know… I'm not sure what's going on, what's wrong with me." Sam confessed. "Guess the road just got too long. There's nothing to talk about."

Sam looked up at his brother's concerned, uncertain eyes.

"Honest." He added, giving Dean a small grin.

"Okay. You good now?"

Sam nodded his head.

"You think you're good to continue down the road? I know it's early, but we're almost to the next town, and if we need to, we can get a room, stay there till tomorrow, give you a break, give you time for whatever's going on."

Dean was really concerned to be offering to stop on the way to a hunt, but Sam was thankful. He knew he needed to clear his head.

"Yeah, if… if you don't mind." He almost sounded childlike with that last part.

Dean stood, putting his hand out to help his brother off the ground and back into the car.

"Dude." Dean started as he was helping Sam return to his seat. "I need your head in the game, man. I need you on this hunt, and if that means we take an extra day to let you clear whatever's going on in your head, then that's what we'll do."

Dean closed his door and went back to his seat behind the wheel. He started the engine, listening to her purr like a kitten before continuing to talk.

"Besides, we've been through a lot lately, I think we're entitled to a crappy, head in the clouds, day every now and again."

He gave Sam a smile that reassured him that Dean was in no way upset about stopping for the day, in fact, it was welcomed, before pulling back onto the road, making his way to the town ahead. After a moment of silence Dean spoke again.

"Hey, Sam."

"Yeah?"

"You gotta warn me next time, okay? You gotta let me know if you start feeling like this again, so I can help you. So, we can stop it before it becomes bad, okay?"

Sam nodded with a slight grin. "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind."

"Good, you do that. You don't have to talk about anything, I'm not going to push you, honestly, if you wanna keep it all to yourself that's fine with me, it's not like I don't do the same, but I gotta take care of my pain in the ass little brother, you know? I gotta make sure you're okay."

Sam didn't reply back, he laid his head against the window, giving Dean a smile of understanding and acceptance. He has accepted the fact that no matter how old they get he will always be Dean's 'little brother' he will always have the need to take care of him, and, Sam would always have a pride that filled him, one that says 'that's my big brother' and he, also, would have a need to protect Dean, no matter what life threw at them, they both knew they had each other.

They knew their bond was closer than just brothers, they were each other's saviors, each other's guardians. And, neither of them would want it any other way.

Time seemed to slip by faster once Sam had calmed down. They had arrived at the town before he realized. Dean had, first, gone to the local motel, getting them a room with 2 double beds. Then returned to the car with the keys, driving to the door of their room.

"I figured we'd take a break, shower, nap, punch some walls, whatever, then decide what we want to do for food." Dean said, with complete understanding.

The punch some walls part gave Sam a chuckle. He couldn't remember how many motel rooms they had left with at least one hole in the wall. But, if that's what it took, for either of them to release whatever they were holding onto, then the other brother would be fine with it, allowing whatever each other needed in order to face another day.

Sam felt like he was dragging his body into the motel room. Whatever crazy fucked up emotional trip he had been on left him feeling drained. He didn't waste any time collapsing onto his bed. The bed furthest from the door, that was his bed. Dean insisted that years ago. Dean always took the bed closest to the door, he said he wanted first shot at whatever came in to attack them.

Sam thought it was dumb, he was a grown man, not a little kid, and didn't like being treated like one all the time, but when it came to Dean's protective instincts, there was no point in arguing. And, right now, Sam didn't care anyhow. He just wanted to sleep off whatever adrenaline rush had been pushed through his body.

Dean had helped, actually Dean did most of the work, Sam felt like a sluggish zombie, remove Sam's boots and slipped his jeans off along with his outer shirt, leaving him in nothing but his boxers and t-shirt. Sam was laying on top his covers, so Dean grabbed the ones off his bed and covered his brother, placing a pillow under his head.

After he made sure Sam was comfortable and resting soundly he made his way to the shower. He would always worry about his little brother, it was his job. It was the only job that really mattered. They always considered hunting as their job, but honestly, that job wasn't as important as his job of watching out for his little brother.

Taking care of Sammy, like he had been ordered so many years ago, was all that really mattered. Without him, Dean wouldn't be able to go on, he wouldn't be able to face another day, he needed his brother. He knew he needed Sam more than Sam needed him, that was no secret to anyone. Yeah, their lives weren't simple, some days their lives were down right hard, impossible even, but together, they managed to make it through, they managed to see the sun rise, and set on a new day. Every day.


	2. Chapter 2

CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD

SPIDERWEBS, DUST, AND COBWEBS

CHAPTER 2

 _Sam,_

 _Went to the local wine and dine to grab some grub, if you wake up, come join me. Or, if you want anything, give me a call. If I'm not back tonight, don't worry, I've seen some fine ladies walking around._

 _Dean._

Dean left his note for Sam taped to the back of the door, that's where he usually left his notes, he figured there was no way of missing it there, especially since their tables were usually littered with papers from researches.

Dean had showered and put on clean clothes, he sat around for a while, waiting for any sign of life from his brother, but he was never one to sit still for very long so, he decided to head to the local bar and grill to grab some food and see what kind of trouble he could find to get into. It was pretty packed for being a weeknight. He figured it was probably one of the only things to do in such a small town.

He didn't understand the lifestyle that most people lived. He couldn't understand how they could continue to live in a way that made them so unhappy, and bored. He was never bored, sure, his life was hard at times, he didn't grow up in the typical way. And, as for happy, well there was a hell of a lot that didn't make him happy, but he had his brother and his car, and that was all he needed.

They filled the gaps and made him happy. The waitress was cute, he flirted with her a little while he placed his order for some drinks and a big, greasy bacon cheeseburger with extra onions and an order of fries. He couldn't help but watch her walk away, damn she had a fine ass! He studied the town folk playing pool in the corner. This place even had an air hockey table, since it was a diner with a bar inside of it, it didn't have an age limit.

The air hockey table seemed to grab the attention of all the teenagers, while the pool tables consisted of the adults. Dean ate his food while observing the night life of the local folks. He figured maybe they did seem happy. They were surrounded by people they knew, playing innocent games with each other, carrying on everyday conversations with friends and neighbors.

Everyone seemed to know everyone's name, on a first name basis or by a friendly nickname. They didn't seem bored at all, in fact they seemed to be having a good time. He gave a few flirting glances to some ladies in the room, but decided to keep it civil. He even chose against trying to hustle anyone one in pool. Everyone seemed too innocent for his taste anyhow.

He finished his food, downed the couple beers he ordered, and ordered a dish of green, grassy, rabbit food for his brother. He headed out, deciding to stop at the local liquor store. He figured it was going to be a long night, and since Sam hasn't called him, he guessed he was still asleep. But, Dean knew Sam well enough to know something was bothering him, and once he woke he would have the need for some type of sharing and caring moment, which would require alcohol, at least Dean knew he would need it.

Depending on what was running through his brother's head, would determine if Sam needed any or not. He was sure he had bought more than what he needed, but then again, when it came to alcohol, was there really a such thing as too much? He also, for Sam's sake, stopped into another store and grabbed a couple bottles of water, just in case his brother didn't want a hard drink. He made his way back to the room. His hands full of bags from the diner and store.

He unlocked the door and found his brother in the same spot he had left him. Dean let out a sigh, quietly placed the bags on the table that sat beside the door, and made sure the door was closed tightly and locked. He proceeded his normal salting routine, making sure there was a fine line in front of the door and across the windowsill.

He checked his brother, just to make sure he was still alive. The seconds passed like hours. He opted out of turning the tv on, he didn't want the noise to wake Sam. He couldn't read anything, not like he wanted to anyhow, because he wanted to keep the lights low, he knew Sam, obviously, needed some rest. So, Dean cracked open a bottle of liquor. Drinking that one down, he opened another.

He turned the heat up just a little. He didn't want his brother getting too hot, but, he had given Sam all his blankets, and Dean didn't want to get too cold. At some point, during the third bottle, he managed to pass out on his bed, sleeping the rest of the night.

The rays of sunlight came through the cracks in the curtains like a punishment. Dean's head was throbbing, wishing he hadn't drank so much last night. The beams of light were blinding, only causing the pain to worsen when he opened his eyes.

Sam hadn't moved. He remained in a restful sleep the entire night. He caught Dean's concern, but at the moment, he needed to shower, to rid his head of the throbbing pain. Coffee, he needed coffee. He rolled himself out of bed, not because he wanted to, but because he had to. He closed the gap in the curtains so the light wouldn't wake Sammy in the same horrifying way it had woken Dean.

He showered, hoping to wash away the hangover he was feeling. After changing clothes and readying himself for the day he gave a slight frown, noticing Sam still hadn't moved from the place he had passed out the night before. Dean removed the note from the door, writing a new one, letting Sam know he had gone for coffee and breakfast, asking him to call him when he woke.

The diner wasn't as full as it was the night before. It seemed the town folks were already at work and school. Dean found a corner booth that was away from most of the noise in the joint. He ordered a coffee and eggs and toast. He wasn't sure how much he could eat without finding the need to vomit, besides he was sure Sam would wake soon and be hungry, which meant he would be eating again soon.

He sat his phone on the table in front of him, anticipating Sam's call. The call never came. Dean had finished his food and 4 cups of coffee, feeling a little better from the hangover, but feeling a growing concern for Sam, he made his way back to the room. He frowned when he found his brother, still, in the same place as before.

Following what had now seemed like a normal routine, he checked his brother for life and a fever. He must be sick, Dean thought to himself, but he didn't feel warm, didn't have any normal symptoms of sickness. Dean turned the air conditioner to a comfortable temperature. He hated when the weather would change so much between the day and night.

During the day air was required, at night it was heat. Dean sighed, he couldn't sit around the room. He has too much constant built up energy. He figured, even if his brother did wake soon, he wouldn't feel like taking a road trip. So, Dean gathered their clothes, changing the note on the door, again.

 _Sam,_

 _Went to do laundry. If you wake call me, please! I shouldn't be gone too long. I paid for another night so don't worry about the time or having to leave. I figured you needed the rest and wouldn't feel like driving today. Let me know when you finally decide to wake up, we'll go grab some grub._

 _Dean._

Dean approached the front desk, paying for another night and asking where he could do laundry. It was a nice day, spring time was in full bloom, so he decided to walk, the laundry mat wasn't far. He enjoyed getting some fresh air, and the walk helped him release some built-up energy he had been holding.

He sorted the clothes, making sure to treat any stains, and filled the two washers. One was filled with whites, and one with darks. He poured the soap into both machines, counting out the quarters needed and starting the wash cycle. He sat in a chair in the corner to wait. There was a small table beside the chair, littered with old magazines.

He looked around, the place was empty. He figured with everyone having normal 9-5 jobs and school on their daily agendas this wasn't the prime time for laundry mat business. He didn't mind, he liked being alone, means there's less to worry about, no monsters to beware of. He thumbed his way through a couple magazines, not reading them, really, he was just looking at the women in them.

They were some type of entertainment, this is the way the actors really live, magazines. The ones that try to make them seem like every day, normal people. He heard the washers turn off and sat his magazine down. He changed the clothes from the washers to the dryers, dropping the quarters into the slots and returning to his seat.

He pulled out his phone for the 50th time, just to make sure he didn't miss a call from Sam. He didn't. There were no missed calls or text messages. He sighed, picking up another magazine, hoping the women inside would help pass the time.

He hated the normal routines of normal people. He was a Winchester, so far from normal, yet, here he was, sitting in some run-down laundry mat, looking at some old entertainment magazines, waiting for laundry to finish, like a normal person. Dean shuttered at the thought. He suddenly felt envious of his brother.

He wished he was the one passed out and Sam was sitting here, living the normal life. Sam enjoyed that type of life. He enjoyed the moments he could feel normal. Dean didn't, his mind didn't seem to work the same as everyone else's. Perhaps, it was because he was programmed different at such a young age. Perhaps he just wasn't born to be normal.

Maybe, whoever decided their fate, knew he wasn't going to live a normal life, so he was made different than most. He had 2 things engraved in that brain of his, 1. Take care of Sammy, 2. Kill the monsters. That's all that mattered. Everything else was just a waste of time. Like laundry, he knew they needed clean clothes, but it still felt like such a waste of time, sometimes, sleep even felt like a waste of time to Dean.

He was relieved to hear the dryers finally turn off. But, he wasn't in a hurry. His mind may have been, but then again, it's always in a hurry. But, his brother hasn't called, which means he's probably still asleep, and there wasn't anything else to do, so he spent his time folding their clothes, separating them into 2 separate piles. Once that was complete, he made his way back to the room.

He was relieved to see that Sam had at least changed positions, something he hadn't done in almost 24 hours. Dean ripped the note off the back of the door when he turned to close it. He put their clothes in their bags, spent a few minutes pacing the floor in the room, then sinking himself into one of the chairs sitting at the table.

After a few minutes of sitting and watching his sleeping brother, he stood, and paced a little longer before falling onto his bed. He figured he might as well finish the drinks he had bought the night before, there wasn't anything else to do. A liquid lunch wouldn't bother him anyhow.

3 liters later and the drinks were finished, Dean wasn't feeling as anxious, the walls in the room didn't feel so closed in. He figured, he needed to go purchase some more for the long night ahead. He knew Sam had to wake up at some point. He checked him again, everything was still the same. Scribbled another note, taping it to the back of the door, again. Letting Sam know he was headed to the liquor store and to call him when he woke up.

Dean returned with twice as much as he had bought the night before, finding Sam still laying in the bed, sleeping. He figured it couldn't be good for him to sleep over 24 hours without waking to at least use the bathroom. After much debate, and 2 more bottles later, Dean decided to wake his brother.

"Wake up sleeping beauty!" Dean said with a slap to Sam's foot.

Sam responded by pulling his knees to his chest, and giving a slight groan.

"Come on, don't make me lay one of my magical kisses on you to wake you." Dean added, while scuffing up Sam's hair, which was already as bad as it could get, so if anything, Dean was helping him.

Sam swatted Dean's hand away. "Leave me alone!" he grunted.

"Nope! Time to rise and shine, Sammy boy!"

"Why?" Sam sounded like he was whining.

"Because you're a whiney little brat, and you stink, you need a shower. Plus, you've been asleep for a long time, I'm sure you have to pee or something."

"Nope."

"Aww, come on Sammy. Saaaammmmmyyyyy. I need you to entertain me, come on, wake up!"

"You're a pain in my ass!" Sam said as he moved himself to a seated position.

"I know." Dean said with a big grin, then covering his nose with his hand he added, "dude, you really need a shower."

Sam rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the bed, he grabbed some clean clothes, absent minded that they were all clean, he hadn't realized Dean washed them. He headed to the bathroom, to first relieve himself then wash off the grimy feeling he had coating his body.

Dean sat impatiently, on his bed. His legs giving a constant bounce. Sam wanted to stay put, he wanted to stop and get a room, but Dean wanted to keep going, he didn't want a room, he wanted the constant movement of his baby driving down the road. Dean had about reached the end of his tolerance for sitting still. He almost hopped on top of Sam when he came out of the room.

"Feeling better?"

Sam rolled his eyes again. "I guess, how long was I asleep for?"

"Dude! You passed out! As soon as we entered the room you were in dream land! You've been asleep for well over 24 hours! I figured you needed to use the bathroom and get at least some fluids in you, if not food too."

24 hours? Dean's behavior and increase in anxiety made more sense now, his brother never could sit still for long, not when he was alone. Sam didn't reply verbally, but gave his body a big stretch and worked out some kinks with a moan.

"Hungry?" Dean asked, almost too eagerly, like he was anxious to get out of the room, like he needed some excuse to escape the 4 walls surrounding them.

"Yeah." Sam answered with a grin as he sat to put his boots on.

Dean already had his boots on, he was pacing back and forth in front of the door, like a tiger waiting to prance.

"Dean, calm down." Sam said, a little irritated mixed with slight concern, "I just gotta put my boots on, what the hell is your problem? If the walls are closing in around you that much, I'm sure you could have found something to do."

"I did! I washed our clothes, went to the bar last night, went to it again for breakfast, visited the liquor store twice, walked everywhere I went, I'm sure I've never taken so many showers..."

"Dude!" Sam stopped him.

He was rambling, and not just normal rambling, it was like his words were going 100 miles a minute, they were jumbling together, not giving him a chance to slow down, or take a breath.

"All right!" Sam continued, "I get it, come on, let's go grab some food, I'm starved."

Dean didn't waste a second, flinging open the door, stepping outside, Sam following close behind.

"Wanna walk? It isn't far."

Sam agreed deciding if nothing else, maybe Dean would work out some of that restless energy he had building inside of him.

They arrived at the diner, the one that was also a bar. It was still early, maybe around 5:00. The place only had a couple people in it. They were the ones who got off work early, Dean had thought. He figured everyone else was probably just getting off work, making their way home, gathering the family, maybe even doing homework, before venturing out to visit with family and friends at the bar and grill.

Dean sat in the same booth he had located for breakfast. The waitress was different, someone he hadn't seen before, she was pretty, but not like it really mattered, Dean's head was feeling all fuzzy, and he had no interest in flirting right now anyhow.

They ordered their meals, Dean ordering 2 beers from the start, getting a raised eyebrow and look from his brother, one that Dean chose to ignore. Sam couldn't help but notice how Dean's leg kept bouncing, like he, literally, couldn't sit still.

"So, what the hell made you sleep so long?" Dean started, his voice sounding just as jittery as his body looked.

"I don't know." Sam admitted. "I didn't know I had slept so long."

"Man, you had me concerned, I mean it was a good 20 hours or more before you even moved positions."

Sam just shook his head. "I don't know, man. I was in an ill mood, while we were in the car, then it felt like the outside, like the trees and stuff, came inside the car and started suffocating me. I remember you pulling me out of the car, it helped me breathe again. And once I felt calmer we got back in. Then you stopped and got us a room. Details are a little fuzzy. I'm not even sure what made me in such a bad mood to begin with. I remember walking into the room, thinking I was going to take a quick nap, while you… while you did something, I don't remember what."

"Shower." Dean clarified, receiving a nod from Sam.

"And the next thing I remember, you were waking me up, threatening to kiss me."

Dean chuckled, "Yeah, that's pretty much it, you slept longer than I've ever seen anyone sleep. You feeling okay?"

"Yeah." Sam gave a puzzled look. "I feel fine, now. I'm not even in the same mood. I feel… I feel like my normal self. I feel rested." Sam chuckled with that last part, of course he felt rested, he just slept for over a day straight.

"You're not sick, or anything like that? Don't feel possessed?" Dean had to make sure, he had to take care of Sam, and be sure he was alright.

Sam gave Dean a look of annoyance. "No! I'm not possessed or anything like that. I feel fine, honest, I don't feel sick or anything."

Dean just nodded his head, accepting Sam's answer, taking a bite out of his cheeseburger.

"What about you?" Sam asked, between bites, getting a puzzled, shocked look from Dean.

"What?"

"What about you, are you feeling alright?" Sam repeated.

"I'm not the one who slept for over a day."

"I know, but maybe you should have? You feeling okay?"

"what? Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"Cause, you seem a little anxious, I mean…" Sam pointed toward Dean's legs. "You can't even seem to sit still, and you've been this way since you woke me up. You were pacing the door like you couldn't wait for your cage to be opened, what's up with you?"

"Nothing, I'm fine."

Sam gave Dean a look of disbelief.

"I said I'm fine! Really, there's nothing wrong with me!"

Dean was getting irritated. He was never really 'fine' but he always said he was, but this time, he knew he was feeling like his own skin was entrapping him, like he needed to claw his way out from the inside, and he wasn't sure why, but he couldn't let Sam know, Sam had his own issues, his own thoughts and feelings, and Dean didn't have any right to add to them.

Frustrated, before he even finished his meal, Dean downed the remainder of his second beer, stood, retrieving the money from his wallet, tossing it onto the table to pay for their meal, and he left. He left Sam sitting there alone, unsure of what the hell just happened.

He began wondering what type of creature they had come across lately, if anything could have placed a spell on the brothers, anything to describe the mood they were both experiencing, the mood that was only broken by a really, really long sleep for Sam. Sam finished his food, it had been a while since he ate, and then headed back to the room.

He didn't have a key, god, he hated making Dean answer the door, but he didn't have much of a choice. Dean opened the door, not with a gun or knife in his hand, but with a bottle of Jack.

Sam glanced around the room and realized what he hadn't realized when he first woke, there were at least 20 empty bottles of beer and liquor sitting around the room, and just as many that hadn't been opened yet. There was a bag filled with fresh bottles, Dean had obviously stopped by the liquor store after he left the diner.

Sam just shook his head and started gathering the empty bottles. Ignoring any looks his brother gave him. By the time he had finished, there was another empty bottle sitting on the nightstand between the beds and a newly opened one in Dean's hands. Sam gathered the blankets that were on top of his bed, the ones from Dean's bed, and placed them back on the bed.

Dean was sitting with his back against the wall, legs stretched out over the bed, so Sam just laid them in a pile at his feet. He picked up the newly emptied bottle and tossed it in the trash with the rest. Then sat on the edge of his bed across from Dean. He took a moment to drop his head in his hands, rubbing his hands over his face as he lifted his head to look at his brother.

"You sleep any?" Sam asked, his voice full of concern and uncertainty.

Dean didn't answer, he just chugged another large gulp and shook his head no.

"I was thinking…"

"That's never a good thing." Dean interrupted, followed by another hard swallow of liquor.

Sam stopped himself from making a full eye roll. "I think maybe we came across something we didn't notice."

Dean looked at Sam, confused.

"Look, we're both experiencing moods that aren't normal for us, well, they are but not to the extent that we're experiencing them, and when have you ever known me to sleep that long? I'm just saying, there's gotta be something we came across that caused it, and I feel better now, so I'm thinking maybe an extra-long sleep is the cure?"

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother. "If this is your way at telling me to quit drinking and sleep, you're doing a piss poor job at it."

"Dean! I'm being serious, just think about it. You'll see, I'm right."

"Yeah cause you're always right! My smart, college boy, little brother! He knows everything! Always right, always perfect, always everyone's favorite."

"Dean?" Sam was a little shocked by his brother's hateful outburst.

"Oh, come on, Sammy, you know it's true! No matter what I do, no matter what I've ever done, I always screw up, I'm always the dumb one. You… you're the smart one! You're the perfect one! You're the one Dad would have chosen if he had a choice. We all know that. You're the one everyone would choose. No one wants a screw up, especially a dumb screwup who's always wrong about everything."

Dean had finished his drink, opening a new one, and downing half of it in one gulp. He had stood from the bed, pacing the floor again.

"Dean." Sam tried to keep his voice calm. "You know that's not true, Dad loved you, he made sure we were both taken care of, not just me. And, no, I'm not always right, I wouldn't be as smart as I am if I hadn't had you to help me. Remember all the nights we spent, staying up late, helping me understand my homework? You're my big brother, you were always there to help me. And I've never seen you as a screw up, you're smart as hell, man."

"Yeah, whatever! And no, Dad didn't make sure we were both taken care of, he only left enough for one of us, my job was to take care of you, he knew that, I knew that. I would always make sure you were taken care of, that you had food, I would go days without eating, as long as you had enough. I would dig through the dumpsters when I got too hungry or started feeling too weak. Dad didn't leave enough for both of us, he left enough for you, and expected me to take care of you, not me, YOU! Do you even have any idea how many nights I would lay in bed and, silently, cry myself to sleep?"

"No." Sam answered, quietly.

"Dad would leave us, I would have to protect you, and myself, cause if I was gone then there would be no one to take care of you. There were nights I was scared, I knew there were monsters around us, there were nights the hunger pains were so bad, nights that all I felt like doing was vomiting but there wasn't even enough stomach acid to dry heave. All while you slept comfortably, happily. Because, because, you're the perfect one, Sammy. You're the one that could never do wrong. You're the one Dad worshiped. Not me, you."

Dean had finished another bottle, and was working on the next. He sat back down on his bed, leaning against the wall, his body was becoming limp. Sam was hoping his brother would pass out soon. He was hoping he would pass out and sleep like Sam had, and wake feeling better, shaking off whatever mojo had been put on them.

"I love you, Sammy!" Dean said in a drunken, half asleep slur. "But, I've always hated me."

Then Dean sunk down on his side, passed out. Sam removed his boots, jeans and outer shirt, the same as Dean had done for him, placing a pillow under his head, after pulling him into a more comfortable position, and covering him with his covers. He removed the almost empty bottle from Dean's hand, placing it in the trash with the rest. He brushed Dean's sweat covered hair from his forehead and followed the movement with a slight kiss.

"Good night, Dean." Sam whispered and he moved away from his brother.

He grabbed the bags full of empty bottles and made his way out of the room, tossing the bags into the trash, and paying for another night, hoping his brother would sleep like he had.


	3. Chapter 3

CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD

SPIDERWEBS, DUST, AND COBWEBS

CHAPTER 3

Sam had been pushing Dean a lot lately, pushing him to talk about things he would have never admitted to in a million years. He was all for taking advantage of his brother's drunkenness, his openness when he was drunk, but right now, he knew it wasn't the time. He knew his brother needed sleep, he needed to sleep for days if that's what it took to give him a mood change.

Sam still wasn't sure what had caused it, maybe they were both just that exhausted. But, maybe it was something more. Either way, it didn't matter as long as they both came back to their senses. Were able to be themselves again. Sam sat at the table, watching his brother sleep.

He didn't show much signs of life, with the exception of the rise and fall of his chest with each breathe he took. He couldn't believe how much his brother had drank over the past day or so. It was enough to put an elephant down, yet his brother was still functioning, well, up until the point he had passed out anyhow.

But, Sam was sure it was more than the alcohol that had caused him to pass out. It didn't take long for him to realize why Dean had seemed so anxious. There really wasn't much to do in this town. Sam had decided to venture out, go for a walk, it was a nice day after all. He left a note for Dean, just incase he woke up, telling him to call him and let him know when he was awake, that he was going to go do 'Sam' stuff and not to worry.

Sam wondered around the town. The sun was shining bright, the sky a baby blue with a few puffy white clouds floating along. The heat from the sun's rays warming Sam's skin, the gentle wind sending a cool breeze through his body as he walked. He located a small local library and went inside.

It wasn't hard for him to find several books that interested him. He gathered a few, putting his phone on vibrate, he settled into a chair at a table. He sat the books down, placing his phone beside them, making sure he wouldn't miss his brother's call if he woke. Sam didn't realize how much time had passed, he had read through several books. He jumped, startled, when someone placed their hand on his shoulder.

"Young man?"

Sam looked up to see the librarian standing over him.

"I'm sorry, but it's closing time." She said with a smile.

It took Sam a moment to come out of his make-believe world, surrounded by the stories in the books.

"Yes ma'am, I'm sorry." He said as he stood, gathering the books to put them back on the shelves.

"You can check them out if you want."

"I'm not from around here"

She looked him up and down for a moment.

"My brother isn't feeling well, so we stopped at the motel to let him rest, so he can get feeling better." Sam explained.

The librarian gave him a big smile. "Well, you look honest enough, if you promise to bring them in the morning, before you leave, I'll bend the rules, just a little, and let you take a couple books with you, to keep you occupied while your brother rests."

Sam gave her the biggest grin. "Yes ma'am, thank you so much! I'll return them tomorrow, I promise."

He placed the books he had already read back on the shelves, gathering the other 3 that he hadn't had a chance to open yet and headed back to the motel. He stopped by the bar and grill to grab some supper before returning.

It had been a long day. He made his way back into the motel room, finding his brother still asleep, still in the same spot he had left him. Sam settled on his bed, opening a book, leaving the room dark, with the exception of the small lamp at Sam's bedside, lighting the pages to his book. He finished it, unsure of how long he had been sitting there, reading.

He glanced over at Dean, getting lost in the rise and fall of his chest. He couldn't help but let his thoughts drift away to the words Dean had said before he passed out. He said he was a failure. He said Sam was everyone's favorite. He said Sam was the only one who their dad cared about. He admitted to starving himself, to eating out of the dumpsters, just to keep his little brother fed, to keep both Sam and their dad happy.

Dean sacrificed, Sam already knew that, he knew his brother sacrificed himself, his sanity, his health, for Sam. He hadn't realized their dad knew how much Dean was sacrificing. Or did he? He wasn't sure if their dad realized what he was doing, maybe he honestly thought he left enough for both of them. Maybe Dean never told him how much he suffered, how much he starved.

Dean wasn't exactly the type to complain. It's not like he ever spoke of his discomforts. He never spoke of anything, not until he couldn't handle it anymore, and that was just recently. And, only because Sam had pushed him so hard. He felt a little guilty for making his brother spill his dirty little secrets, but he was glad he did. He was glad he knew more about his brother, more about the feelings and thoughts that ran through his mind.

Dean had started shifting in his sleep. He never was the type who could stay still for long, even while sleeping. Sam had noticed the sun was starting to make its way through the curtains. He had gotten up, closing off the gaps that were allowing the light into the room. He didn't want it to wake Dean.

He was still shifting around the bed. Mumbling words Sam couldn't understand. But, he did notice the discomfort in Dean's face. The way his brows creased together and his lips were drawn tight. Sam was starting to make out a few 'no's' from Dean's mumbling, a few 'pleases' he knew his brother was having a nightmare, but he also knew Dean needed what sleep he could get.

Dean started having sweat beads form on his forehead. Sam retrieved a wet, cool cloth, and wiped down his brother's face, reassuring him he was okay. Reminding him he was there, with him, and they were both safe. He placed his hand on Dean's chest, calming his breathing.

At some point, Sam fell asleep beside his brother, his presence had calmed his brother, so he didn't mind. Now that Dean was sleeping soundly again, Sam moved, making his way to the bathroom, then writing another note for Dean to call him if he woke.

He headed out to grab some food and return the books to the library. Once he was finished he returned to the room, finding his brother still asleep, he decided it was time to wake his brother, to make him get something besides alcohol in his system.

"Dean." Sam gave him a shake. "Hey Dean-o, how about you wake up? Let's get something in your system, what do you say?"

Dean stirred but didn't wake.

"Hey, Dean?" He gave his brother a harder shake. "DEAN! Wake the hell up, man!"

Dean peeked his eyes open, bringing his surroundings, and his brother, into focus. It didn't take him long, once he was awake, to jump out of bed and empty the liquid stomach contents into the toilet. He barely made it in there. His head was spinning. Breathing wasn't easy, especially while he was emptying his stomach.

Sam was there, right behind him, rubbing his back, reassuring Dean he was okay, with a calm voice. Once Dean was finished, he pushed Sam's hand away.

"I'm good bro! I need to shower, I feel sticky, must have been sweating." Dean rubbed his face with his hand, looking up at Sam, "How long was I out?"

"Feeling better?" Sam asked.

"Uh, yeah, how long was I out?"

"A little over a day."

"Damn it Sam! Why the hell did you let me sleep so long?"

"Do you feel better?"

"Why do you keep asking me that? I already answered it, yeah I feel better, okay?"

"Well, that's your answer. Because you needed it, the same way I needed it. To feel better." He gave Dean a slap on the back of his shoulder. "Why don't you get a shower?" He said as he stood and walked out of the bathroom.

Dean did just that, he took a shower, cleaning off the nightmare he had, the one he wouldn't tell Sam about, the one he wouldn't even let Sam know he had, unless he already knew, but if he did, he would just pretend he didn't know what he was talking about.

He was so tired of this girly side of him. Sam had retrieved clean clothes for Dean and placed them on the closed toilet, when Dean emerged from the shower he was thankful his brother had done that for him. he got dressed, brushed his teeth and hair, prepared himself for the day ahead.

"Hey Sam, what time is it?"

"Uh, 11:00."

"Great, it's check out time, what do you say we get the hell out of this town?"

"You sure you feel up to it?"

"Yeah, hell yeah, I've been itching to get out of here."

Sam just nodded, and started gathering their belongings. Once their items were packed, they returned the key to the front desk, thanking them for their service. They headed back to the diner for one last stop, to fill Dean's empty stomach, before heading out of town, back on the road, back toward the hunt they should have already been to, the hunt they should have already taken care of, the hunt that should already be over and they should be on to the next.

Sam had to remind Dean, more than once, that his food wasn't going to disappear in front of his face, that he needed to chew and swallow, not just inhale. Dean threw a fry at Sam, telling him to shut up, that he was hungry and could eat how he wanted. They paid the waitress, and headed out the door. Dean tossed Sam the keys.

"You mind driving for a bit?" He asked, getting a surprised look from Sam. "I don't exactly feel like myself yet." He admitted as he sat himself into the front passenger seat.

Sam made his way behind the steering wheel, starting the perfect sounding roar of the engine. The sound of his baby made Dean smile as he curled his body against the door, laying his head against the cool window. He drifted in and out of sleep for the next few hours.

"Hey Dean," Sam interrupted the silence, getting a curious, half-awake look from his brother. "I called up one of Dad's old hunting buddies, and um… I told him we got ourselves in a bit of a mess with a hunt, I gave him the info he needed, and asked if he could help us out, he was more than happy to help, said he's been itching for something to kill lately anyhow."

Dean was looking shocked, like his brother just told him his dog died. "You pawned a case off on someone else?"

"Well," Sam started, "kind of, I guess, not really, I mean, I told him he didn't have to, that we could, it would just take us longer than we planned to get there. And like I said, he was more than happy to take on the case."

Dean laid his head back against the window. "Whatever man."

"So, where to now?" Sam asked, not sure if he should ask or just pick a place himself.

Dean just shrugged his shoulders. He really didn't feel like hunting anyhow. He just wanted this day to end. He wasn't even enjoying the fact he was in his baby. He would never admit it to anyone, he always loved his baby. He loved the feel of her seats, loved the sound of her engine, loved the smell of the leather, but right now, all of that was making him feel sick, it was sending waves of nausea through his stomach.

"Sam, pull over, now!" He said in a hurry.

He didn't even give the car time to come to a complete stop before he had his door opened, jumping out of the seat, emptying his stomach contents onto the ground.

"Dean, oh god Dean, what the hell, man? You okay?"

Sam was at his brother's side as soon as he was able to get the car stopped and his door open. Dean just waved his hand at Sam before emptying what remained in his stomach.

"Mmm good" was all he was able to mumble out. "Help me up." Dean mumbled once he was finished.

He reached out his hand to grab onto his brother, taking a fist full of his shirt above his shoulder, he pulled himself to a standing position, sliding himself back into the passenger seat, leaning against the coolness of the window. Sam drove while Dean drifted in and out of consciousness.

The sun had gone down, filling the once bright sky with darkness. The warmth that filled the air was now cool, small drops of rain started splattering on the windshield. The night was quiet, and dark, clouds covered the moon, blocking out its light. The only thing Sam was using to light his way was the headlights from Dean's beloved impala.

Dean hadn't shown much interest in living. He seemed to prefer the loneliness of the door. He had no interest in even trying to stay awake, no interest in eating, or keeping himself hydrated. The night was silent. Sam had turned the music off, the darkness of the night joined the silence. Dean, for the first time, broke the silence,

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Hey, I'm… uh… I'm sorry."

"About?"

"Everything, nothing, I don't know."

"Dean, what's going on with you?"

"I don't know, Sam. I don't know. I just… I don't feel like myself, I can't really explain it, I guess. I just… I just wanted you to know I'm sorry, for everything, for anything that I might have ever said, or done, or whatever. Anything that hurt you, or made you upset, or sad, or whatever emotion you want to put in there, I'm just sorry… okay?"

Sam was thoroughly confused. "Dean, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Look, I know I haven't always been the greatest brother, the greatest person for that matter, but I've tried. You gotta believe I've tried. I've tried to do everything right. I've tried to do good, to help as many people as I could. I tried to take care of you, to keep you safe. I know I've screwed up, a lot, but I tried not to. I tried to keep everyone happy, to do what I was told to do, to obey orders and…" Dean had stopped, his words trailed off to silence

"Dean." Sam cleared his throat, glancing over at his brother, seeing him curled up to the door, it made his heart sink a little. "You're not a failure, you're not a screw up. You did a damn good job raising me, and, honestly, with or without the punishments and consequences that you had to endure, I still don't think I would ever be able to follow Dad's orders like you did. I wouldn't have lasted, there's no way in hell I would have been able to survive the life you lived. I don't know how you done it. I don't know how you sacrificed so much, especially for me. I don't know what made me worth it, what made me worth your sacrifices, what made me worth your love. I don't know what I did to deserve a brother like you."

Dean had shifted his body away from the door, he was now looking up at his brother, his head leaned against the headrest, he looked weak and tired. Sam pulled the car off to the shoulder, he had to dry his eyes from the tears that started to fall, and he wanted to make sure he had his brother's attention. After wiping the tears from his eyes, he locked his gaze onto Dean's.

"I mean it. Do you hear me? I mean every word. I know we have our moments, I mean, hell, what brothers don't argue? But the thing is, no matter what we face, no matter what kind of arguments we have, no matter if we're able to spend every single second of every day together or if we need a break from each other, the thing is, we will always have each other. In the end, no matter what, we always have each other. When one of us is weak, the other one holds them up, that's the way it is, that's the way it's always been. But, unfortunately, you've done more holding me up than I have you. But right now, right at this very moment, you gotta let go of whatever you're holding onto and let me hold you up instead. You hear me? I need you to let me help you, as much as, rather you want to admit it or not, you need me to help."

Dean hated feeling weak. He hated admitting he needed someone else, even if it was his brother. He didn't mind being the one who was there for everyone else. He didn't mind being the shoulder everyone leaned on, but to put the shoe on the other foot, that he wasn't comfortable with. He wasn't comfortable with allowing others to help him. He wasn't used to it.

"I can't." Dean whispered.

"Why not?"

"Because… I'm not allowed." Dean dropped his head in shame.

"What does that mean?"

"Just what I said, I'm not allowed to… I can't be weak, I can't need help from anyone, I'm not allowed." Dean sounded almost childish, ashamed. Ashamed that he wasn't allowed to be human, wasn't allowed to have needs, or feelings.

"Who… who says?"

"D… dad." Sam wasn't sure Dean's voice could have sounded any sadder.

"Yeah, well, he's not here, is he?"

"Doesn't matter, I'm still… doesn't matter."

Sam was completely speechless, he wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't sure how to respond to his brother's heartbreaking confession. "Dean, you're allowed. As long as I'm around, you're allowed."

Sam pulled the car back onto the road, he knew they needed to stop somewhere for the night. He didn't really feel like getting a room, he searched the area for an old hunting cabin or abandoned home. Dean had fallen back asleep against the door. Once Sam had located what he was looking for he pulled the car off the road, and into the woods. Grabbing their bags first, then he woke Dean, helping his sleepy body out of the car.

Dean shoved his brother's hand off him. "I got this Sam!"

They walked about 500 feet to their destination, making sure to step over the logs and vines that were in their way, using their flashlights to light their way. The ground was wet and muddy from the light rain falling. The cabin Sam located looked like it had been abandoned years ago, half of it was falling down with the roof caved in. The other half appeared to be standing strong.

The old wooden steps were creaky and unstable at best. Sam had to kick in the front door, the wooden frame around it had the door stuck in a partly opened way. It took a little extra force to push the door back closed once they were inside, but with the wilderness surrounding them and the rain coming down, Sam knew they needed the door completely closed.

The old wooden floor had holes in areas, the room they first walked into appeared to be a living room. It had an old couch that was mostly springs and a wooden frame. There was a brick fireplace that was standing strong. The cool nightly wind blew its way into the shack, sending a chill down Sam's spine. There wasn't much more to the place, just a big empty room, surrounded by a roof and walls that were collapsed unto itself.

Neither of them seemed to mind. They had stayed in worse places. All things considered, besides the dust, the place was decently clean, there didn't appear to be any rodents living in the empty space. Perhaps, they had made a home in the collapsed walls, but the brothers didn't feel they had anything to worry about in the empty space.

Dean collapsed on the empty floor, he didn't even try to pretend he had any will to go on, at least not at that moment. Sam laid beside him, covering his brother with one of the blankets he had taken from the trunk, and tossed him one of the 2 pillows he had brought with them.

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean sounded tired, despite the fact he had slept for most of the past few days.

"You okay?" Sam's voice sounded more concerned than he meant it to.

"Yeah… Sammy, I'll be fine, don't worry… I'm always fine."

"I didn't ask what your predictions for the future were, I asked if you were okay, right now… like at this very moment in time. You know, the present time, that we are living in right now."

Dean rolled his eyes, it was dark, Sam couldn't see his eye roll but Dean was sure he had put enough effort into that Sam could feel it. "Sam…" He said his brother's name as more of a warning, trying to tell him to just shut up.

"Dean, I'm being serious." Sam was so tired of the way his brother always tried to push his own needs away.

Another eye roll, trying to put more effort into it, maybe Sam didn't feel it the first time, but he was sure to feel it this time. "Sam…" Dean released a loud sigh, "I don't know what the hell is going on with me, I don't know what's wrong. I just… I just feel like… I don't know… I feel like… living doesn't matter right now… like… the only thing that can make it better, the only relief from the feeling… inside me… is to just sleep… sleep it all away. I don't know why. Why I feel that way. I just do, okay? I just do."

Dean had decided to let himself go, he didn't have the effort to fight it, he didn't have the will to even care about the fact he sounded like a little school girl.

After a moment of silence, Sam spoke up. "You know it matters right?"

"What?"

"Living, you know it matters right? It matters that you're living."

"Whatever."

"It matters to me."

"Go to sleep, Sam."

"It's Sammy, to you, and I can't. I have to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine, I'm always fine."

"No, you're not!"

"Yes, I am!"

"You might like to pretend you are, or even will yourself to believe it, but you're not! I've watched you, studied you, my whole life, I know when you're okay, and right now, you're not okay."

"You just think you're so smart, don't you, college boy?" Dean's voice had changed to a slight playfulness mixed with exhaustion.

"Hey, I call it like I see it."

"Whatever, bitch. And, you know that's a little creepy, right?"

"Yeah, whatever, jerk."

"Go to sleep, SAMMY." Dean made a point to emphasize the fact he called his brother 'Sammy' instead of 'Sam'.

"You know I'm here, right? If you need to talk, or whatever."

"Yeah, don't worry, I know my little sister is always ready and willing to have a caring sharing, tissue filled, slumber party."

"Jerk!"

"Bitch!"

"Night, Dean."

"Night, Sammy."


	4. Chapter 4

CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD

SPIDERWEBS, DUST, AND COBWEBS

CHAPTER 4

The morning brought a new calm. The rain had stopped, the clouds cleared from the sky. The sun was bright, its rays shining on the new life of spring. There were sounds of birds chirping, new baby birds, freshly hatched from their eggs, chirping as their mothers brought them food to eat. The trees were full of playful squirrels, running from branch to branch, playing in the warmth of the new day. Dean had woken before Sam, giving his brother a slight nudge.

"Sssaaammmyyyy."

He was feeling better, that was more than obvious by his annoyingness. He pushed Sam's sleeping body.

"Sammmmyyyyy, waaaakkeee uppppppp."

Sam stirred and stretched, cracking his eyes open to look at the nuisance that was waking him. He grabbed the pillow that Dean had left abandoned and threw it at him, closing his eyes again. Dean gave his brother another shove.

"Heyyyy Sammmyyyyy."

He started wiggling his finger in Sam's face, brushing it across all his features, leaving Sam's nose itching and tingles through his cheeks and the annoyance filling his eyelashes.

"Damn it, Dean!" Sam half shouted, throwing his pillow at Dean this time.

Dean gave his brother a great big smile. "Good morning, sunshine!"

Dean sounded pleased that he had successfully woke his brother. Sam just groaned, knowing there was no way his brother was going to let him fall back asleep.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm up, what the hell do you want?" Sam snapped, still sounding half asleep.

"Aww, Sammy, it's a bright, beautiful, new day. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping… you know, all that mushy stuff that comes with the sunrise on a spring day, anyhow, I could hear Baby, she's feeling lonely out there in the big, scary woods and wants me to go to her, to make her purr." Dean was grinning ear to ear, he knew he was adorable, it didn't matter if anyone else thought it or not.

Sam just rolled his eyes. "You woke me up so you could go make love to your car? Dude, you don't need me for that, I'm sure you got it covered."

"Very funny, Sam."

"Okay, I'm up, lets go make 'Baby' happy, lets go make her purr, where we off to?"

"I don't know, someplace with food for starters."

"I swear your love obsession with food is almost as bad as your love obsession for your car."

"Baby, her name is Baby, she's more than a car, Sammy. Don't be jealous because you haven't found true love like I have."

Dean had gathered their bedding and bags and started out the door, Sam followed close behind, rolling his eyes and shaking his head at his brother's words. He seriously questioned him sometimes, wondered if maybe he needed to spend some time in a nut house or something.

Dean made haste, not stopping for anything until he reached his car. He rubbed his hand across her hood and down her body, opening the trunk to place their belongings inside. Closing the trunk, he ran his hand down the other side of the car until he reached the driver's door.

"Oh, Baby, I missed you. I'm sorry I'll never leave you again."

Sam just rolled his eyes again. "Dude, get a room!" Sam said as he slid into the front passenger seat.

Dean placed himself behind the steering wheel, rubbing his hand across the dash then stroked the wheel. "Don't listen to him Baby, he's just jealous, he doesn't understand the connection between you and me." His smile widened as he started to motor, listening to his baby purr before putting her in gear.

"You're in a good mood today." Sam noted.

"Why shouldn't I be? Dude, I feel good enough to drive my Baby, I feel like I can listen to my tunes without them causing a headache, and life feels like it's worth living again."

"Good." Sam said with a nod of approval.

"Man, you don't get it, you don't understand, the… the darkness I was feeling, the pending doom that felt like it was hanging over me, I can't describe it… but it's gone, thankfully." He took a deep breath, breathing in fresh air as he rolled the windows down, letting the feel of nature overwhelm the interior of the car.

"Dean, I'm glad, I really am."

"Yeah, me too."

"If you ever feel that way again, you know…"

"I swear to god, if you start some sappy, girl moment, telling me how you'll always be there and I can talk to you about anything, I'm going to pull over and kick you out of my baby."

Sam just smiled, with another eye roll, yup, his brother was back. And he was in full swing 'Dean' mode.

Time passed quickly, Dean's tunes playing, a little too loud, but Sam didn't complain, he was thankful that his brother was feeling better. Dean's voice broke the silence, cutting through the numbing sound of his tunes.

"Ah huh! Food at last!" Dean said with a hint of excitement, as he pointed at the town they were fast approaching.

Again, Sam rolled his eyes.

"Dude!" Dean said, a little amused. "Your eyes are going to end up freezing in the back of your head, right in the middle of an eye roll, one of these days."

That comment only got Dean another eye roll, causing him to laugh out loud. He pulled into a parking spot that sat in front of a window, of course, not to Sam's surprise, Dean sat in the booth that was positioned in front of the window that looked out to his beloved 'Baby'.

The waitress was an older woman, Dean seemed disappointed about that, he was ready to flirt, maybe even get an early morning rise, but not with an old lady, that wasn't Dean's type. They ordered their food, Dean was pleased that it was late enough in the morning that they were offering lunch as well as breakfast.

Sam ordered some eggs, toast, and hash browns, accompanied by a nice cool glass of ice water. Dean ordered an extra greasy, double bacon cheeseburger without the grassy rabbit food, with extra onions and an extra-large order of fried onion rings. He was disappointed to find out they didn't serve beer this early, so he settled on something fizzy, Coke, Pepsi, whatever they had, it didn't matter to him as long as it was dark and fizzy.

Dean quickly looked around the diner and set his eyes on another waitress. After passing a few looks at each other the younger, prettier waitress made her way to their table. Dean and the young waitress exchanged some flirting words back and forth. When the older lady returned with their food the brothers ate their meal, the younger waitress returned to her tables but continued to pass flirting glances with Dean.

"Dude, I think I just threw up in my mouth a little!" Sam replied after being stuck witnessing their flirtatious ways.

Dean laughed. "Well, if you need me to help you find someone, I mean I am your big brother, that's kinda my job."

"I don't need help finding a girl, I'm just not into all those one-time shots the way you are." Sam replied, giving Dean another one of his famous eye rolls.

After Dean had finished his meal the young waitress approached him again, informing him that she was going on her break. Dean didn't even hesitate.

"This won't take long."

He whispered to Sam as he stood and followed the young waitress to the back. Sam ordered desert, figuring he was stuck there waiting for his brother. After what seemed like forever to Sam, Dean reappeared, slapping Sam on his back between his shoulders.

"Dude!" Sam protested. "I don't know where that hand has been."

Dean reached in his pocket, retrieving his wallet and placing the money for their meals on the table.

"Doesn't matter." Dean replied. "They have this thing they invented called soap and water, it washes all the germy things right away." Dean held his hands up, shaking them, showing Sam his clean palms.

Rightfully, Dean received another eye roll for his sarcasm.

"Gonna freeze that way one of these days" Dean reminded Sam as they walked out the door.

"Whatever, dude."

Once they returned to their normal seats in the impala Sam looked over at Dean, he was amazed the way his brother could change moods so quickly.

"So, where to now?" Sam asked.

"I don't know" Dean replied with a shoulder shrug, "Where you wanna go? And, don't say the beach. We aren't making that trip again." Dean said, half serious and half joking.

Sam just chuckled, he remembered their trip to the beach, it took them weeks to get there and had been one heck of a rollercoaster ride for the both of them.

"Drive North." Sam suggested as he pulled out his phone to check any news articles that may be of interest to them.

Dean pulled out of their parking spot and headed north. He turned his tunes back on, rolling the windows down, enjoying the freshness of the day.

Sam sat, consumed in his own mind. He had originally starting looking for a case but got lost in his thoughts. Eventually his thoughts got the best of him. He wasn't sure how long they had been driving. The scenery was different by the time he pulled himself back to the present. He contemplated, chewed on his thoughts for a few more minutes.

There was something he wanted to say, to talk to his brother about, but wasn't sure how he would handle it. He knew it wouldn't go well, knew the time wasn't right, but, Sam being Sam, he decided he couldn't keep worrying, he needed to talk to his brother, even if it did piss him off. It had been on his mind long enough and was eating away at his soul.

Dean was in a pleasant place. He was enjoying the day. It had started out good for him, and remained that way. Dean was always happiest behind the steering wheel of his baby. That car was the closest thing to home he had since the fire that took his only home away. Of course, Sam doesn't remember their family home, so the car was the only home Sam ever knew.

But, Dean had different memories than Sam. Dean had different demons he faced, he always made sure Sam was taken care of, that he didn't have to face the heartaches that Dean did. In a way, Dean made sure Sam had kept as much of his innocence as possible, even now that they were older, Dean still tried to protect his brother from the hardest blows in life. Which was one of the things that bothered him so much.

He knew Dean was strong, he knew he would never be as strong as his brother was, but, he couldn't even begin to understand how his brother has taken so much from life without it breaking him to the point of insanity. Sure, he's had his moments, but always bounced back from them. And, why? Why did he choose to stay with a man that treated him the way he did? Why didn't he just leave their dad? Especially after he turned 18?

He knew what Dean's answer would be, he knew he would say that he stayed to protect Sam, but once Sam was 18, or even when he left for college, Dean could have left too. He could have walked away from the years of abuse. Sam wasn't even abused the way Dean was, and he had the sense to walk away, to leave their dad.

Dean wasn't dumb, he had to have known what he was doing. Maybe he liked it? Sam quickly shook that thought away. There was no way Dean would have liked the crap he had to deal with. No way he would have welcomed it.

"What?" Dean's voice broke through Sam's thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Dude, you've been sitting there staring at me for about 20 minutes now, I know I'm sexy, but damn!"

"Uh… yeah… sorry." Sam was still trying to get his thoughts together.

"So, what is it? You look like you got something to say."

"Um… Yeah, I guess I just got lost in my thoughts."

"Ok, well, next time could you do it while staring at something else? I was beginning to feel a little creeped out the way you kept looking at me, checking me out."

Dean was serious, he did feel like Sam was checking out his body, in a nonsexual way, of course, but was also concerned that the things running through his brother's head caused him to zone out for a while.

After a few more moments of silence, Sam reached over and turned down the music, clearing his throat the best he could before speaking. "So, Dean."

"Yeah?"

"I've been, uh, reading up on some stuff, like research and stories of personal experiences…"

Sam wasn't sure how to say what he wanted to say, in a way he was hoping if he just said a little, somehow his brother would be able to figure out what he was talking about. No such luck.

"About?"

"Well, about people's personal experiences and stories of survival and all the scientific and psychological effects of surviving abuse and neglect and rape..."

"Sam…"

Dean's voice was more of a warning, a warning to shut up and not bring up the subject. A warning that he would kick his ass if he continued. A warning his brother didn't listen to.

"Dean, I'm being serious."

"I'm fine!"

"Really? Because it says that its okay if you feel the effects, especially the emotional effects for years after, even your whole life, and people say they…"

Dean cut him off. "Sammy! I said I'm fine."

"And I'm just supposed to believe that? After everything you went through, and everything you went through a second time caused by Angel's father, you expect me to believe you're just 'fine'?"

"Yeah, because I am."

"I don't get it, man. How the hell could you stay with him? How could you allow him to do everything he did to you, and not fight it? Not even tell anyone, not even me."

"Is that what this is about?" Dean's voice started to raise, filling with irritation. "Are you feeling left out? Hurt? Did I hurt your feelings by not pouring my heart and soul out onto you? That I didn't tell you every single one of my little secrets?" Dean's grip had tightened on the steering wheel.

"NO! That's not what this is about. This is about you, not me."

"Doesn't sound that way, because I'm fine. I have no issues with anything, obviously you're the one with the issues."

"Oh, really? So, you have no problem with the fact that Dad punished YOU because I chose to leave? To go to college, to make my own life away from him? You have no issues with the fact that he decided your punishment needed to include you being tied to a bed and raped? Traded for a night at the bar? You have no issues with that at all?"

By this point Dean's grip was tightening to the point his knuckles turned white, then he would release them, allowing the blood to flow back in, just to tighten his grip again. Anger was filling him, fast. His day had been so good, why did his brother have to start his crap?

"No, I don't." Dean said, anger filling his voice. "Besides, Dad was already drunk, and if you remember correctly he was moaning the loss of his son, you know, his youngest, the one who decided to walk out on the family, so he could have a life without us, yeah that son! So, I'm not even sure that Dad knew what he was doing, chances are he was too drunk and too upset to even be able to think straight. He obviously didn't know what he was doing."

"Why do you keep defending him?" Sam was the one yelling this time.

Dean whipped the car off the road onto a dirt pull off, slammed it in park and turned off the engine, turning his body in the direction of this brother while removing his seatbelt.

"Why do you keep trying to make him out to be some monster?"

"Because he was one!"

"No, he wasn't!" both brothers were yelling at this point.

"Oh, really? So, everything he did to you, all the crappy training and hours of workouts and running, for the both of us, the fact that he was never around, never took care of us, expected you to be able to take care of everything, you don't think that doesn't make him a monster?"

"Sammy! Why the hell do you gotta start this shit for?"

Dean got out of the car, slamming his door behind him, he couldn't sit there any longer, he didn't want to fight with his brother, he didn't want to talk about this. Just his luck, Sam followed!

"Damn it, Sammy! What the hell do you want from me? What do you want me to say? I'm fine, okay! Just because all the shit you read says that I shouldn't be, just because it's all new to you, doesn't mean I'm not okay. I've dealt with it! I deal with it on a daily basis! Maybe you're the one who needs to deal with everything? Not me! I'm fine!"

"Stop walking away from me, Dean!"

"I'm done! I don't want to talk about this!"

"Well, I do!"

"Then go find you some crazy person doctor and talk to them! I swear to god, I wish I never told you anything. Why the hell did I ever think that would be a good idea? THIS! This is why I never told you anything you didn't need to know, this is why I don't let what's on the inside out. THIS! I handle my shit; don't you worry about that! I've been handling my own crap since I was 4 years old, I've been handling all of your crap and Dad's since then too. I got this, don't worry about me."

"My crap? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I've been taking care of you since the day Dad put you in my arms and told me to run out of the house with you. It means I've been sacrificing my life for yours ever since."

Of course, Sam started to give Dean the look, the one that said he didn't have to do that, he had a choice.

"Don't give me that look, Sam! I didn't have a choice, okay? You may think I did, but I didn't. Not if someone was going to take care of you. If you were going to live to see your first birthday, then I didn't have a choice."

Dean leaned against the hood of the car, he was feeling defeated, he was still angry, but figured maybe he needed to give his brother more of an explanation, maybe something, anything, to get him off his back for a while.

"When the fire happened, I held you, ran out into the front yard, just before there was a big explosion, Dad scooped us up and ran further away, to keep us safe from anything that might come flying from the house. The neighbors had already called 911 and before I could put my thoughts together the firetrucks were there, the cops were there, an ambulance."

Dean's voice had softened. "There were so many flashing lights, and loud sirens. You were crying. I just held you tighter, Dad had to talk to the cops. When the fire was out, and everything started calming down, I remember Dad picked me up and sat me on the hood of Baby, he sat beside me and took you out of my arms, he held both of us. I'm pretty sure he was trying to put everything together in his mind too."

Dean wiped a hand down his face, keeping his tears at bay, drawing in a deep breath. Sam had settled and leaned on the hood next to him. "Anyhow, we stayed in a motel after that. Dad got what he could out of the house, the things we needed for the night at least. Stopped at the store, got you diapers and formula and some snack food for me and him. He was wrecked. He was in shock. When you started crying he didn't even acknowledge it."

Dean paused to take another deep breath, pushing his emotions back down. "I got up, made your bottle, the same way Mom did. After I fed you, I changed your diaper. I didn't do too good at it the first few times, I mean I had helped Mom several times but it was different doing it by myself. When you woke in the middle of the night, Dad didn't wake up, I did. I fed you and changed you again."

Sam was beginning to understand what Dean was trying to say. "The morning, the same thing. The entire day, I survived off the small amount of snack food he had gotten the night before. He didn't move from his bed the entire day. You would cry, I would take care of you, then I would try to bring Dad a glass of water or something, then sit and wait in the quiet motel room. Wait for something, anything to feel normal."

Normal? Nothing was ever normal after that night. "Finally, after a couple days, Dad left us, he went back to the home, gathered the rest of what he could salvage. It didn't matter, I had been taking care of you for days anyhow, I already didn't need him. He did come back with some more food, which I was thankful for because I remember feeling really hungry, but I made sure you ate your bottles and baby food that Dad had gotten."

Dean had shoved his hands in his pockets. "I didn't realize that would become a norm for us. But, the thing is, Dad wasn't in any shape to take care of either of us, so, no, I didn't have a choice."

"That's what I'm talking about, I mean he expected a 4-year-old to take care of a baby, on his own, by himself, not only that, but also try to take care of the parent too!"

"Sam, it's no big deal, I got used to it very quickly."

A moment of silence passed before Sam spoke again. "Dean, when was the first time Dad hit you?"

That answer sent a shock through Dean. "Uh… Sam, no offense or anything, but if I answer that, we're just gonna, at some point, end up in an argument like we were earlier. Can we please just leave this alone? Please."

"I wanna know, when was the first time?"

"I'm not exactly sure, when I was still 4? Maybe I had turned 5?"

"What! Why? What was his reasoning?"

"Because I wouldn't talk."

Sam crinkled his forehead. "You wouldn't talk?"

"Look, after Mom, after the fire, I was young, I didn't know how to process what had happened any easier than Dad did. That's why I can't blame him for the way he acted, that's why I defend him, because I was there too, trying to figure everything out, I understand."

Dean turned his face from Sam, finding a spot on the ground to hold his focus. "But, I stopped talking, after it happened. I didn't make a sound, not sure why, I just didn't. I'm not sure for how long, long enough they made Dad take me to see some shrink, thinking that I was going to suddenly start talking to some stranger."

Dean laughed at himself with that thought. "Anyhow, Dad, I'm sure he was drunk, he was upset, I don't know what he was upset about, but, I remember him getting really mad at me because I wouldn't answer a question he asked me. He grabbed me by my shoulders and shook me as hard as he could, to the point I started crying."

Again, Dean paused to wipe a hand down his face. "You gotta understand, even as our mom was burning in that house, I never cried, not once. This was the first time I remember crying since that night. I guess, I just did what I've always done, I buried it all inside. So, when I started crying, Dad punched me in the face and yelled at me to stop."

 _Only babies cry! You're not a baby anymore! It's time you grew up, Dean. You have to take care of your little brother, you have to watch out for Sammy. His dad's words were followed by a slap across the face._

 _Dean tried to squirm himself away but his dad had a death grip on his shoulder. His fingers, digging bruises into it. Does your face hurt? He asked his son, I hope so. Do you like that pain? His questions weren't meant to be answered. If you don't start opening that damn mouth of yours and talking again, it'll be worse than just a punch, or slap, to your face, I'll beat it out of you. Do you hear me? I can't afford to spend money on this quack of a doctor they are wanting me to send you to._

 _Dean was scared, he was more scared at that moment than he was the night his mom died. He couldn't stop the tears, they weren't tears from pain, these tears were born out of fear. They only angered John more, he grabbed little Dean, pulling his pants down, exposing his bare bottom, and pulled him over his knees, he removed his belt and began spanking Dean with it. Yelling at him, telling him he wasn't going to stop until he spoke, that he had to beg him to stop, use his words, or he would spank him until every bit of his skin was torn away, maybe even until he died like his mom did._

 _That night was when Dean spoke again for the first time. Blood ran down his buttocks, back of his thighs, and his lower back. He was covered in dark purple bruises and lacerations that poured the blood, all caused by his dad's belt and his anger. That was the moment John realized he could control Dean with the use of his belt._

 _He wasn't finished, he made his son sit on his sore bottom, in a hard-wooden chair, and recite the ABCs and count to 100. He was still young, still had problems with doing those things, any time he messed up, his dad would make him start back from the beginning, told him he would spank him again, told him he couldn't get up until he finished._

"So, what made you start talking again?" Sam had broken through Dean's thoughts.

"I don't know, Sam, I guess I just decided I didn't like being quiet."

Dean replied as he pushed himself off the hood and made his way back into the driver seat. He couldn't believe he had just went that far back into memory lane. That was one of those moments he filed away in the 'never remember' files. Somehow, Sam managed to break into that file and pull out the pages of the beginning. But, thankfully, he didn't read them, only Dean did, only Dean knew what really happened, what really made him start talking again, what made him start being the obedient soldier that he was.

"You coming?" Dean yelled out his window as he started the engine. "I'm getting kinda hungry, lets see what we can find in the food department."

Sam made his way into the passenger seat, agreeing with the hunger part. He wasn't finished, by no means, he still had a lot he needed to ask Dean, a lot he wanted to talk about, but he supposed maybe Dean was right. Maybe Sam was the one who needed to deal with it, maybe Dean really was fine, but all of this was new to Sam, in his mind, it was like it just happened, because he was just finding out the truth about his brother's past, and even though Dean said he was okay with it, Sam wasn't.

It hurt, it hurt Sam a lot, and just like Dad and Dean, the night their mom died, Sam didn't know how to deal with this, didn't know how to deal with the information he had been given. He didn't know how to deal with the thought that his dad wasn't the man he always thought he was, and the fact that his brother had been hurt in so many ways, in ways Sam was sure he would never be able to survive.

But, somehow Dean not only survived them, he was still a rather normal, functioning adult, and Sam couldn't get his brain to understand that, not without talking it out, but, the only person he had was his brother, the only person he had, he would hurt even worse if he talked to him about his feelings. For the first time, Sam felt alone, even with his brother by his side, he felt truly alone.


	5. Chapter 5

CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD

SPIDERWEBS, DUST, AND COBWEBS

CHAPTER 5

The boys stopped at the next town they came to, Dean filled Baby with much needed fuel and Sam located the nearest place to eat. Dean needed a moment away from his brother, he told Sam to go ahead and order for him and he'd meet him there when he was finished taking care of Baby. He not only filled her with fuel, but also checked the fluids under the hood and the tire pressure.

He was surprised when his phone rang, it was a number he didn't recognize, but that wasn't unusual for hunters, most of them had unlisted numbers, or throw away cell phones. He leaned on the hood of his car, engaging in the conversation with the person on the other side of the phone. When the conversation was nearing an end, he drove to the restaurant and finished his phone call as he walked to the front door, finding Sam, he sat in the seat across from him.

"Who was that?" Sam questioned

"It was an old buddy of Dad's, someone we used to hunt with when we were younger, I'm not sure if you remember him or not; not sure if you ever hunted with him or if you were too young. Anyhow, he's working on a case and wanted to know if we would be able to help him out."

"And?"

"And, I told him we were grabbing lunch and would head that way when we finished, he's only about a 5-hour drive from here." Dean stated as he shoved a bite of food in his mouth.

"And he's one of the good guys?"

Dean, gave him a puzzled look. "He's a hunter, Sam, of course he's one of the good guys."

That wasn't what Sam meant, but he left it at that. The last thing he wanted right now was another argument with his brother. Once they had finished their food the brothers headed back onto the road, Dean filled Sam in on the information he was given while he drove.

"So, he said there's been a lot of animals killed in the area, not just killed but mutilated. Both, domestic and wild animals. All their insides were missing, leaving only skin and bones, they were gutted out, whatever it is, took all their insides with them. We discussed it, and neither of us know anything that would feed on the insides of animals. No creature finds something's intestines and delicacy."

"So, it's not just like the heart or kidney, it's everything, on the inside?" Sam was just as puzzled as Dean.

"Exactly. There have also been a few missing people in the area. The thing is, the people who are missing, they aren't what normal creatures would feast on, they are all overweight, I mean extremely overweight. I don't know about you, but if I was going to abduct someone I would find a person who I could physically handle, not some 400 – 500 pound person, you know what I mean?"

Sam nodded his head, that did seem a little odd. "Does he have any leads?"

"Said everything he's come up with has been a dead end, that's why he called me. Said he needed someone who he could trust and who knew what they were doing, with both, researching and hunting. Here…" Dean handed his phone to Sam. "He sent me pictures of what he's already researched and of all his notes."

"I'll start looking into it." Sam said as he pulled his phone out and started browsing the web. He wished he could use his laptop, it would make things quicker, but for now, without wifi from a motel room, his phone would have to work.

It seemed time went by quicker for Sam since he actually had something to do during the drive. Dean kept his tunes low so they wouldn't interrupt Sam's research, but he didn't want complete silence. He was perfectly happy driving his baby without conversation.

He had begun thinking of the times he had hunted with Max. He remembered wishing he could stay with him, he had offered, but Dean couldn't leave Sam like that. He had to protect his little brother. Max had even offered to get Sam, take them someplace safe, not allow John to see either of them, but Dean also had an obligation, a duty, to serve his dad.

John was still his dad, and he would love him no matter what. Sure, he had some rough days with him, some days worse than others, but in the end, he was still Dad and there was a blood bond that Dean couldn't deny.

Before either brother realized it, they were pulling up to the motel Max had given Dean directions to. It was probably the fastest five hours the brothers had in years. They gathered their bags, weapons, and Sam's research material he had been working on and walked to the door.

With what seemed to Sam to be a 'secret knock' Dean knocked on the door and it was opened from the other side. A tall, muscular man stood before them. He had dark brown hair, just a little longer than Dean's. The wrinkles on his face showed the hardship of the hunting life, even though, Sam wasn't sure some of them weren't from age too.

It was obvious he worked out, a lot. He had strong arms with undeniable, body building muscles bulging from under his tight t-shirt and blue jeans. Before either brother was able to say a word, he had reached out and grabbed Dean, embracing him in a hug.

"Come here you!" He said as he grabbed him. "Man, look at you, you sure have grown up!"

Dean just smiled, pulling away from him. "You look good yourself. Max, I don't know if you've met or not, but this is my brother, Sam."

"Yeah, we've met, but only for a minute, one time when your old man was taking him to Bobby's." Dean just nodded his head as Max extended his hand to Sam. "Nice to meet you, son!"

Sam shook his hand. "Nice to meet you too. Max is it?"

"Yeah, your brother never was good at introductions or a man of many words."

Max chuckled as he stepped into the room, allowing the boys to follow and set their belongings down. Max sat in a chair at the small table that was littered with research, Sam sat across from him in the other chair, setting his laptop and papers beside Max's.

"Man, it's been forever." Max said to Dean. "The last time I saw you, you were what, 14, maybe 15 years old?"

"Yes sir, something like that."

"So, how you been? I heard about the passing of your old man, sorry to hear that, I know, for some unknown reason, you held a special place in your heart for him."

Dean just nodded, glanced at Sam, then back at Max. "Honestly, I've seen better days. But, I've also seen worse, so can't complain too much, how about yourself?"

Max just chuckled. "I think that's the longest sentence I've ever heard you say."

Dean just silently chuckled back.

"I've been good! I've been doing a lot of my own thing, hunting, living the dream! But, yeah, I've been really good."

Dean just nodded in response to him.

"So," Sam chimed in. "you knew our dad?"

"Yeah, yeah, I did, I hunted with him a few times, he was one hell of a hunter!"

Sam had remembered what Dean had said about how their dad would use him to keep hunters around, to make them want to help him on cases, Sam couldn't help but feel his face get hot and was sure it was turning red, he didn't know if Max was one of those hunters or not, but if he was, there was no way they were staying to help, not after he finally got his brother back on solid ground.

"Whoa there, tiger!" Dean said, noticing his brother's anger rise, and getting the attention of Max. "I told you, he's one of the good guys." Dean reminded him

"Which means?"

Dean, releasing a deep sigh and looked over at Max. "I… um… I've been telling Sam some things… about Dad, over the past year and half or so. He's still trying to process it." Dean's eyes almost had a plead in them, like he didn't know what to do, he was asking for help.

"Can I talk freely?" Max asked Dean.

"Yeah, he knows pretty much everything, well not everything, everything, but he knows how Dad was, what he's done." Dean sounded almost childlike, defeated, desperate to do something to convince his brother Max really was one of the good guys.

"Sam." Max turned, making eye contact with him. "The first thing you need to know is I never touched your brother, I've never hurt him. In fact, I tried to save him, but his loyalty to his family kept him where he was at."

Sam's attention was completely on the words Max was saying. "How so?"

Max glanced back at Dean, getting a nod of approval and then back at Sam. "I know how your old man was. I witnessed it myself. We did a lot of hunting together, just the two of us. I knew the anger he had, I heard him, both, complain and brag on you boys."

Dean closed his eyes, willing the world to just stop for a moment as Max spoke. "Then, Dean must have been about 12, he started going on hunts with us. It didn't take me long to realize how hard he was on your brother, how much he pushed him, how he wouldn't accept anything but perfection from the kid. He would wake him up, before I even woke, and make him run. He said it was training."

Max looked over at Dean, making sure this wasn't becoming too emotional for him. "When I woke, your brother would be gone, sometimes for longer than any 'training' should have lasted. There were times your dad, he would go check on him, or at least that's what he said he was doing. I'm not stupid, I wasn't back then and I'm still not today."

Dean got up to use the bathroom. He just needed to get away from the conversation for a moment. Max took notice of his actions but continued speaking. "Your brother had all the classic signs. He would flinch when a hand was raised around him, even if it was in a nonaggressive way. He would tighten up, shutter away, with any physical contact. Everything he said was 'yes sir'. He never questioned your dad, never disobeyed, never argued."

Dean returned, giving Max a nod telling him he was okay and to continue. "In fact, most of the time he was silent. Wouldn't talk at all, like he was afraid of his own words, that the simple act of speaking would hurt him. Don't get me wrong, for a 12-year-old boy, your brother was one hell of a hunter, almost as good as me and your old man. I was impressed with him being such a young age."

Dean just chuckled with a slight smile, Max was always quick to tell Dean what a great job he did, he would always praise him for a job well done, even if his dad disapproved, even if John thought Dean messed up and needed harder training, or even punishment.

"Your dad, he drunk, a lot." Max continued.

"Yeah, I know." Sam replied.

"Yeah, well, one day, after a hunt. You see, we killed what we were after, it went pretty smooth, or at least I thought it did. Everyone was in the right positions. Your dad, being your dad, put Dean as the bait. And when the creature came near him, I killed it. Well, John got upset because Dean wasn't the one who killed it. He honestly thought that a 12-year-old boy, who had a monster coming toward him, who was given instructions to lure it to him, instructions that he knew he wouldn't defy, he thought he was going to be able to overcome the fear and adrenaline and kill that son of a bitch himself."

Max just shook his head, feeling the anger from that day again. "Besides, that wasn't even in the plans so I'm not even sure where that crap came from. He sent me back to the motel, said him and your brother would take care of the body, they needed some bonding time anyhow, so I did what he requested. I headed back to the motel, there were some loose ends we needed to tie up and a victim's family I needed to go talk to anyhow. So, I let them take care of the body and I finished what needed to be done."

He looked back at Dean, his eyes filled with sadness. Dean took an extra long blink and nervously leaned his back against the wall. "When I got back to the motel after finishing what I needed to do, they were already back. John had taken a shower and changed his clothes, Dean was in the shower. John went out to the bar, started going off about how he couldn't stand to look at your brother anymore, what a disgrace he was. That he couldn't believe he was his son. Pretty much, about any hateful thing you could think of, any hurtful name he could call him, was coming out of his mouth."

Max moved so he was sitting closer to Dean. He positioned himself on the edge of the bed where Dean was sitting, Sam positioned on the bed across from them. "He was obviously already drunk. I didn't really say anything, there was no point, like I said he was obviously drunk anyhow. But, when I looked up, I saw your brother standing against the wall by the bathroom door. He had finished his shower and no one realized. The thing is, when I looked into his eyes, I didn't see the hurt I expected to see, I didn't see the emotions I was feeling. I saw an emotionless soul. I saw someone who had heard all those words before."

Max stopped for a moment, looking over at Dean who had shifted so he was sitting on the edge of the bed next to Max. He had his elbows resting on his knees and his head dropped into his hands. His hands were covering his face, making him unable to see any emotions that might be making their way through. He placed a hand on his knee, getting just a slight jerk of the leg as a response.

"You good?" he asked Dean before continuing on.

Dean nodded his head. "Yeah." Came out muffled in his hands.

"Okay." Max looked back at Sam. Sam had obvious emotions in his expression but was also interested in the ending of his story, like he needed to know the rest, like his life depended on it.

"So," Max continued, not removing his hand from Dean's knee. "when your dad realized Dean was standing there, that's when things got ugly. He turned too fast, faster than I could even react, not that I would have expected it anyhow. But, he turned with his fist that met Dean's face, knocking him into the wall, causing him to slide down it until another punch hit his stomach, making him double over onto the floor."

When had Dean's legs started trembling? "I stopped him by the second time his boot connected with Dean's side. I was pissed! Dean, just sat up, leaned against the wall, like it was nothing. John went on about how worthless he was, about how that's all your brother was good for, that and sex."

When Max said that he felt Dean's leg tighten up, he gave it a light squeeze, his way of reassuring Dean he was there, and it was okay. That was the reason he left his hand there, he couldn't judge by his face since it was buried in his hands, and he knew as he continued things were going to get emotional, so he needed to make sure Dean was okay, that it wasn't going to be too much for him.

"He grabbed Dean." Max continued. "By his throat, picking him up off the ground, carrying him to your dad's bed, which was the one beside the door, and threw your brother on the bed. He told me I could do whatever I wanted to him. That, your brother, was good to use to get any anger or emotions out. He told me he had a really good mouth too, that he was better than any woman he had been with. He then, proceeded to tell me about him and another hunter."

He stopped, looking over at Dean and giving his leg a pat followed by a squeeze.

"He knows." Dean mumbled out of his hands.

Max nodded and continued. "About how his first experience was with the two of them, that the first thing he put himself inside of was another man. Of course, he didn't use such nice words, but you get what I'm saying. And he told me he would do the same for me if I wanted, he even told me I could do that to him, that I would be his first, he actually used the words, take his virginity."

He squeezed Dean's knee again, making sure he was okay. "Honestly, I didn't say what I wanted to him, there was no point. I just told him he needed to go to the bar, like he had planned, that I didn't have a problem with Dean. That we would be just fine while he was gone. I remember… I remember when I looked over at that little boy curled up in a seated position on the bed, leaned as close to the headboard as he could get, his knees pulled as close to his chest as they would go. I noticed for the first time, emotions in his eyes."

Max had to pause to stop the tear that threatened to drip. "The fear that was there, the certainty that he would be hurt, possibly worse than before. I, honestly, wanted to vomit at some of the things your dad told me. About how many fingers he was able to get into him, the different ways he was used to please him, and anyone who hunted with him. I was never happier when he finally left."

Dean's legs had started shaking. Max tried to give the one a squeeze, to calm him down, but it didn't seem to help. He could feel the trembles with the shaking of his legs. The restlessness that was filling him, the anxiety that was building. Max shifted his attention from Sam to Dean.

He pulled a chair over and sat in it so he was sitting directly in front of Dean. He took both his hands, placed them on the sides of Dean's face and lifted his head out of his hands, forcing him to look at him. The emotions that ran through those dark green eyes was almost too much. Max wasn't used to seeing Dean have much emotion at all, but the tears that had slipped from his eyes was enough to break his heart.

"You really have had it hard lately, haven't you?"

Dean couldn't answer, he just nodded his head. He allowed his body to slip forward, resting his forehead on Max's shoulder for just a moment before pulling himself away. He wiped his hand down his face, drying any remainder of tears, and glanced at Sam.

"You might wanna finish your story before he explodes." Dean said, nodding his head at his brother's direction.

Max chuckled. "You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." Max turned his attention back to Sam, not moving from where he was sitting in front of Dean. "So, when your dad left, it took me a few minutes to reassure that scared little boy that I wasn't going to hurt him. He finally uncurled himself from the ball he had shriveled into and moved closer to where I was sitting on the bed."

He glanced back at Dean, making sure he was still okay. "I, somehow, god only knows how since the kid almost didn't speak, but, I managed to get him to talk to me. He explained how when I left and him and John took care of the remains of the body, how he beat him, and had him do other things as well. He told me how much he hated it, how much it hurt when he would use his fingers in him. But, that didn't stop him, not since he experienced it with the other hunters. He told me that John told him every hunter they hunted with was going to do that to him."

Sam could feel anger rise as Max spoke. "He told me his dad had him use his mouth on him while I left them alone. He showed me the fresh belt marks he left, because he needed to be punished for not being brave enough, for not killing the thing himself. His little body was littered with bruises, from different beatings. I was shocked to say the least. I told him, while John was gone we could leave, that I would protect him, keep him safe, but he said he couldn't leave you."

The deep sigh he released was more pronounced than he expected. "When John came back from the bar that night, he told Dean to get in his bed. But, I wouldn't allow it. I told John as long as I was there he wasn't going to hurt him anymore. I had your brother sleep in bed with me, I laid between him and John's bed. Told him he would be safe there. And I made damn sure I kept my promise to that boy!"

He spoke to Sam but didn't take his eyes off Dean. "I remember he tossed and turned in his sleep, I'm sure he had nightmares, little groans escaped him every now and then. Either that, or he was just in pain, either way, it broke my heart. I tried once more to convince him to leave with me before I left the next morning, but he wouldn't."

He changed his glare to Sam. "We hunted together a few times after that, maybe 10 times? Every time was the same. I made sure John didn't touch him while I was there, made him sleep in my bed, with me, where he'd be safe. I tried every time to convince him to leave with me, even told him we would get you, I would keep you both safe. Over the course of time I got him to open up more and more, telling me horror stories I never thought possible, but he had his loyalty. That's one thing I can say about your brother, he's loyal!"

"Why did you stop hunting with them?"

"Well, because I ran into them, on a different hunt, we both happened to be in town at the same time. I saw John in a bar, asked about Dean, he told me not to worry about him that he was being taken care of by his partner. He wouldn't tell me where they were staying, so I beat the crap out of him. Never was able to locate your brother."

Dean shot his head up. "I didn't know that!"

Max just let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, and it felt good as hell too!"

"I remember that night. He said he got into a bar fight, didn't say who with or why."

"Probably because he knew if I found you, I'd make you leave. I could pretty much figure out what he meant when he said you were being taken care of."

"Yeah." Dean's head dropped back down.

"Dean?" Sam cleared his throat and continued. "Why didn't you leave with him? Especially after he offered to take me with you?"

"Because, someone had to look out for Dad."

"He was a grown man, who was an ass most of the time. He didn't look out for you, so what did it matter? I mean, it would have saved you a lot of pain. You wouldn't have had to endure the night I walked out on you guys. You would feel like you're worth more to someone than just a bar tab."

"Sam…" Dean's voice had a warning in it. Max didn't know about any of that, and as far as Dean was concerned, he didn't need to know.

Sam dropped it, so did Max. Max could tell there was something to that, but figured Dean had enough right now. Besides, Max didn't like all the emotions showing through in Dean's eyes.

"I'm gonna go shower." Dean announced as he stood and headed for his bag. "It's been a long day and I'm exhausted." He stated as he disappeared into the bathroom.

"He gonna be alright?" Max asked Sam.

"Yeah, it's just been a long year and half, or I don't know, it's seemed like forever since he's started opening up to me about things."

Max grabbed 2 beers from the cooler, handing one to Sam. "What made him decide to start opening up to you?"

"He hit a really dark place in his life, I guess holding a gun to your own head will make you see things a little different? It wasn't easy, but I convinced him, before he ended everything, to at least try to talk to me, to let some of the crap out. I gotta say, I was not expecting what I heard."

"Yeah, tell me about it, that's the way I felt when John started running his mouth. That poor boy, he was only 12 and was already broken. I don't know how he's done it. How he's managed to stay so strong. I can't even imagine how much worse things got after the last time I saw him."

He paused to take a drink before he continued. "It was pretty bad then, he was about 16 and the brokenness in that kid, the emotionless shell that he was, it was scary, not to mention the fact that it didn't take a genius to figure out he was self-harming. I mean, don't get me wrong, he was good at hiding it, but I was better at seeing it. I made him talk to me about it, he said John told him he had to do it, he wouldn't tell me everything. I was sure there was a lot more to it, that maybe he was embarrassed or afraid to tell me, he wouldn't get specific with anything."

"That's because, according to what he told me, Dad had him 'punishing' himself. He called it a punishment, not self-harm, and what he said was some of it, at least one of the ways he did it, was sexual. Dad even gave him what he needed to cause himself sexual pain."

Sam felt bad for telling him that, but he was still angry at their dad, still trying to process everything Dean had told him, and he figured this Max guy knew enough about Dean that it wouldn't matter. Besides, Dean had told him he could speak freely to Sam, so that should mean that Sam could speak freely to Max.

"Your brother is one hell of a man!" Max sounded proud of Dean. "So, you left them?"

"Yeah, I went to college."

"Really? Where at? What for?"

"Stanford, law."

"Wow! Impressive!"

"Thanks."

"What made you leave college?"

"Dean."

Max just nodded his head.

"Well, Dean and the fact that the same demon who killed my mom also killed my girlfriend, the same way, so I figured there was no point in staying."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's okay, just one more thing in the life of being a Winchester." Sam chuckled.

"So, what happened to Dean when you left? What did you mean by he's worth more than a bar tab?"

Sam cleared his throat, drawing his attention to the bathroom, hearing the shower still running. "He told me that Dad got drunk and met some guys at a bar who offered to pay an endless bar tab in exchange for a night with Dean. Dad went back to the room where Dean was at, with the guys, and made him undress and tied him to the bed, then left, leaving the men to do whatever they wanted."

He paused for a drink and to make sure the water was still running. "Dean said more guys came. He wasn't sure how many, like 6 maybe, but he can't be sure and that some, if not all, of them took more than one turn with him. He said it was the first time he was on the receiving end of… that."

That was all Sam had to say, Max understood completely. He just shook his head. "Is that as bad as it got?"

"I don't know. He hasn't really ever talked about the years I was gone. Of course, I haven't talked about them either. That's the only thing he's told me about when I left. But, there was this time not too long ago, he got caught up in something he didn't mean to get caught up in, and thought he was just going to be with a couple girls."

Again, he paused to hear the water running. He hated feeling like he was talking about his brother secretively. "He said some guys came, and well, it was pretty much the same thing. He was tied to the bed, couldn't stop it from happening, but then we had to save someone who was in that house, and we got caught sneaking in, well he got caught, it was my fault, but they didn't see me, so Dean put himself back into the same situation so I could finish saving the girl. Then I splattered that son of a bitch's brains all over the wall! And, everyone else ran like scared little puppy dogs."

"Damn!"

"You gotta understand, my brother has been through more than anyone should ever have to go through in their lives, I don't know how he does it, I don't know how he finds the strength to keep going. Honestly, I don't know how he finds the strength to not pull the trigger that's pressed against his head. But, somehow, he manages, and doesn't just manage to find the strength to face another day, but he faces it with confidence, a functioning human being."

"Still talking about me, I see." Dean's voice startled both of them. They didn't even realize the shower had turned off, or that Dean had entered the room.

"How long you been standing there?" Sam stuttered in shock.

"Long enough." Dean replied as he made his way to his bed, the one closest to the door, of course. Dean wasn't dressed in his normal boxers and t-shirt, he had on a t-shirt but also a pair of sweatpants. "I don't care." Dean announced as he collapsed on the bed. "I'm exhausted, I'm going to sleep, you two girls wanna do me a favor and not let your slumber party keep me awake?"

Dean was laying on the edge of the bed closest to the table they were sitting at, which was also the closest to the door. Sam nudged his brother with his girly comment. "If you don't want to be a part of our slumber party then why are laying in the middle of it?" Sam asked, making his voice girly.

"Because, bitch, this is my bed, and I figured I'd leave you a spot to sleep, but if you'd rather sleep with your new-found BFF then go right ahead! I'll move over and take the whole bed." Dean moved his body, spreading it over the entire bed.

"Jerk." Sam replied as he stood up, walking over between the beds and turning off the lights that were there. Dean had turned his head to face that direction, so Sam figured he would make it as dark as possible for him to sleep.

Sam and Max changed their conversation, keeping their voices low so Dean could sleep, they started talking about the case and what they had each found out about the creature they were hunting.


	6. Chapter 6

CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD

SPIDERWEBS, DUST, AND COBWEBS

CHAPTER 6

"So, I looked through the things you sent Dean, and done some research on the way here." Sam began. "From what I can find, I think it looks like an Amomongo. I know they are supposed to be only a folk lore, and originated from the Philippines, but I can't find anything else that would fit the description of what you told Dean."

"Hmmm." Max sat and thought for a minute. "Okay, what do you know about them?"

"Well, basically, it's bigfoot. They are believed to be the size of a grown man, but with more of an ape look and covered in hair or fur. They disembowel their prey and actually feast on the intestines and internal organs of their victims. So, the fatter the prey, or the bigger the human, the more they have to feast on, I would assume."

Sam gave a disgusting look. "They are believed to have long sharp claws, more like blades, that can cut through their kill, leaving them mutilated and without any internal…stuff."

"Dude, that's just gross!" Dean's voice startled Sam.

"I thought you were going to sleep?" Sam asked.

"I was but you girls wouldn't quit talking, so I decided to listen in, to see what kind of disgusting thing I could find out about what we are facing. I wasn't disappointed. But, bigfoot? Really?"

"No, not bigfoot! An Amomongo."

"An a mom on the go?"

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, Max let out a laugh. "Amomongo." Sam repeated. "Just forget it, it's a big hairy ape that eats your insides."

"A bigfoot?"

"Yeah, okay, Dean, a bigfoot, if that will make you happy."

"Can we call him Harry?"

"Dean! We are not the Hendersons." Sam said with another eye roll.

"Whatever, I'm naming him Harry."

"Name him whatever you want, you're gonna have to kill him regardless."

Dean let out a gasp. "You can't kill Harry!" He acted shocked that his brother would even consider it.

Max couldn't contain himself any longer, he let out a full belly laugh. He was finding the brothers amusing. Dean had found a sense of humor about himself, one that seemed to aggravate his little brother, and he seemed to be pleased with the fact it was working, leaving Sam frustrated.

"Get your panties out of wad!" Dean said as he pushed himself to a seated position. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, you're such a girl!"

"You're the girl!" Sam shot back.

"Wow, brilliant. Did it take you all night to come up with that comeback?"

"Shut up, Jerk, even Dad said you were a girl."

Silence. Complete silence. You could have heard a pin drop in that room. Dean's quirky, playful expression dropped to a blankness. His eyes lost their life. His body tensed.

"Uh… Dean… I'm…" Sam started.

"Save it!" Dean interrupted as he got up and headed toward the bathroom.

"Dean I didn't mean…" Sam tried again, but was quickly shut out by the bathroom door. And a "Just shut up!" by Dean as he closed the door. Sam looked desperately at Max. "I didn't mean to, I…" he trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"He'll be alright, just give him a minute." Max assured Sam.

When minutes ticked by and Dean didn't come out of the bathroom they began to worry, it had been 15 minutes with no sounds coming from the room and no reappearance of Dean. Max told Sam to stay where he was and Max approached the bathroom door, giving a light knock.

"Dean? You okay?"

No answer.

"Dean, answer me, let me know you're okay."

No answer.

"Dean! I don't give a shit if you decided to sleep in there all night, just give me a response so I know you're okay!"

There was a click on the lock of the door, then Dean opened it, pushing past Max.

"I'm fine." Was all he said.

He laid back in his bed, this time he was all the way to the other side, laying on the edge, like he couldn't get far enough away from the table they were sitting at. He threw the covers over himself, even managing to cover his head.

"Dean. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it." Sam tried one more time to apologize.

No reply.

"Dean, please, talk to me. I'm sorry!"

No reply.

"Dean! You're such a cry baby!" Sam got frustrated with the silent treatment.

No reply.

"Okay." Max chimed in. "That's enough, I think it's bed time for all of us. If we are gonna get anywhere with Harry tomorrow we need to be rested and have our heads in the game. Sam, why don't you share my bed?"

"I'm good, Dean and I always share a bed if we have to."

"Why don't you give Dean his space tonight?"

"Okay, fine, he's being a cry baby girl anyhow." Sam replied as he grabbed his pillow off the bed. He might be giving Dean the whole bed to himself but he wasn't going to let his brother have his pillow. If Dean was going to pout, so was Sam!

"Sam…"

Max's tone was a warning, a warning not to push his brother, to shut his mouth and stop the name calling. They were grown men, not little kids anymore. He may have messed up and said something he shouldn't but that didn't mean he had to keep it up.

"Whatever!" Sam said in a tone a two year old would use when not getting their way.

Sam and Max settled into their bed, turning out the lights. Once everyone was lying down, Dean shifted positions, he moved to the opposite edge of the bed, and turned, back facing the others. He continued to leave his body and head covered, pulling all the covers around him and tucking them under him. He looked like he was laying in a cocoon, or perhaps trying to keep anything from coming into his space, invading his privacy.

Dean was used to crying silent tears. Seeing Max again, brought back a lot of memories, both good and bad. It had been years, years since he had an overwhelming need to self-injure. He wasn't sure why he did it. He didn't even try to hide it very well. Not like it mattered, everyone knew anyhow.

He didn't let anyone see. He hid under the covers as soon as he came from the bathroom. He was just wearing a t-shirt. He figured once the others went to sleep he would get up and put on a sweatshirt, that would hide the evidence his knife left. The evidence that the sharp blade slid down his arm, leaving a crimson line of blood trickling out of it.

He stuffed a washcloth in his pocket when he left the bathroom. Once he was hidden under the covers he pulled it out and used it to attempt to stop the bleeding. He wasn't sure how well it was working, but he figured he really didn't care. Something Sam said, the fact he made the comment about Dad calling him a girl, and he wouldn't stop, he continued to call him a cry baby and insult him, the same way Dad would.

He just couldn't seem to handle it right now. He was fine, honest he was. Then, out of no where it seemed these feelings hit him. It wasn't the first time his brother had said something hurtful, he wasn't even sure why what he said bothered him so much, but it did. He waited, sure that the others were asleep, he slipped out of the covers, grabbing a new t-shirt and a hoodie, along with the first aid kit, he went into the bathroom, quietly closing the door.

His arm was still bleeding, it was deeper than he thought. He wrapped a tight bandage around it, one he was sure would stop the bleeding but still left room for his blood to circulate through his arm. He changed out of his bloody t-shirt, putting on a clean one, and covering his body with the hoodie that matched the sweatpants he was wearing. He decided that's what he would wear for the day. He didn't need to worry about jeans and his normal shirts, not if they would be out in the woods hunting down a bigfoot.

Dean disposed of the bloody rag, throwing his shirt back in his bag and replacing the first aid kit. He laid back in his bed. He could hear the light snoring coming from his brother. He was thankful he was still asleep. He had no desire to deal with him right now.

Max appeared to be asleep too. He had considered waking him, just for the comfort of having someone looking out for him, but decided he was already being girly enough and that would just prove Sam right. So, he laid in the bed, for what felt like hours, before drifting asleep.

The next thing Dean knew, he was getting a slight nudge from Max.

"Good morning sunshine, care to join us for breakfast?"

Dean just groaned and rolled over.

"Come on, sleepy head, it's time to get up." Max continued.

Dean peaked his eyes opened, seeing the sun was shining. He pulled himself out of bed, carefully making sure there was no blood evidence on the bed that could be seen, holding his arm against his body he made his way to the bathroom. He checked his hoodie, making sure there was no blood on the outside of the sleeve, he then checked the bandage, it appeared to still be bleeding. Great! He figured it really needed stitches, but he couldn't tell anyone that. He couldn't let them know what he had done. Shame filled him.

"Come on, we're hungry." Max said with a knock on the door. "You okay in there?"

"Uh… yeah… one minute." Dean said as he recovered his arm.

He filled under the bandage with washrags to help keep the blood from soaking through his sleeve. He tried to act normal during breakfast. But, every time he used his arm, it would throb. He was sure the bandage was too tight, or maybe his arm was swollen, but he didn't want to remove it, he needed long enough private time to be able to care for it properly.

"Dean?" Sam said in a shy, quiet tone. "Are you still mad at me?"

Dean just shook his head no.

"I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't mean to say that, I didn't mean it the way it came out."

"I know."

"You okay, then?"

Dean just nodded his head. He didn't have an answer for him, even if he did he knew his answer would be 'yeah' or 'I'm fine'. Those were always his answers, true or not.

"Something wrong with your arm?" Max spoke up. He had noticed Dean wasn't really using it.

"Must have slept wrong on it, sir."

Max crinkled his eyebrows, he wasn't happy with Dean's reply. He decided, since they were just about done, he would let it be for now, there's a time and place for everything, and this was not the place.

"I think you and me, we need to have a talk when we're done here." Max said.

"Yes sir." was Dean's only reply.

Sam could tell something was wrong. Dean wasn't acting like himself. He was acting like Max was Dad, his answers and responses to him were the same he would have given Dad.

"You boys done?" Max asked, seeing that Sam's plate was empty, but Dean had only been pushing his food around on his, taking a small bite every now and then, but not interested in eating at all.

"Yes sir." Dean replied.

"Yeah." was Sam's answer.

Max paid for their meal and the three made their way back to their room. The cafeteria was part of the motel so it was only a few doors down from where they were staying. Once inside, Dean tried to make a B-line for the bathroom, before he got too far, Max reached out and grabbed his arm, his left arm, the one he hadn't been using. Stopping Dean in his tracks.

Sam had closed the door behind them, watching everything take place. Dean's body tensed, Max spun him around so they were facing each other, not letting go of his arm. Max had taken his free hand and pulled up Dean's sleeve, exposing the blood soaked bandage that was causing pulsing pain to shoot through his arm. Dean tried to pull away. There was no way Max was going to allow that to happen.

"Is it still bleeding?" Max just seemed to know.

Dean didn't give a verbal answer, just nodded his head yes.

"Sam, you got stitches in your first aid kit?"

"Yeah."

"Good, get them." Max replied as he led Dean to the bed, making him sit on the edge. "Grab a towel what time you're at it."

Max didn't seem mad, he didn't seem surprised. If anything, he was understanding. He took it for what it was. What was done was done, now, all he could do was try to fix it. Max pulled a chair to the edge of the bed, so he was sitting in front of Dean. No words were spoken.

He helped Dean remove his hoodie. Placing the towel Sam brought in Dean's lap, under his arm and began removing the bandage. Once it was removed the blood began to flow freely out of his arm. It was definitely much deeper than Dean realized it was.

"You did a number on this one." Max said as he readied the needle and thread. "It's gonna hurt like a bitch!" He said as he started pushing the needle through the skin, making the necessary stitches to close the wound and stop the bleeding.

Dean didn't seem fazed by it, didn't even seem to wince with the first stitch. Once Max was finished and had fresh bandages covering the cut he spoke again, making direct eye contact with Dean, looking into his eyes, trying to catch whatever emotions were there.

"Your head in the game?"

"Yes sir."

"You sure? If not, you need to stay here. Sam and I can handle Harry."

"I'm good."

Max nodded his head. "Okay, if that changes, I need you to let me know, okay?"

Dean nodded his head, changing his attention to Sam who was sitting at the other chair at the table, tears filling his eyes, threatening to flood out.

"I'm sorry." was all he could say to his little brother. "It's not your fault, I promise." He added, giving Sam a slight smile, one that said he wasn't 100% but he was 'okay'.

"So, what's the plan for today?" Sam asked.

And like that, the subject was changed. Just like Dean had hoped it would be. He had put back on his hoodie, he really had no interest in changing his clothes. They hatched a plan, hoping to be able to locate where this thing lived, to be able to scope out the area and see what they were up against, find out if it was only one or possibly more.

Once their plans were made and weapons were readied they headed out to the wooded area at the edge of town, where the last kill was found. They headed into the woods, separating just enough, but being sure to stay together, where they could keep an eye on each other. They stumbled upon several dead carcasses, all the insides torn out and missing. The stench of the dead filling their noses.

The farther into the woods they went, the worse the smell, and the more dead, decaying bodies they found. All of them seemed to be some type of animal, all of them missing their insides. They were noticing a trail, an area that looked like something had been through there more than once. Could be a deer, but also could be a bigfoot.

It was always heading away from the dead animals that littered the forest floor. This thing was smart, it didn't leave the dead as a trail to find its home. The deeper into the trees they got, the darker it appeared, the sun being blocked out by the trees. Max decided to climb a tree, see if he could spot anything ahead. The brothers stayed below, looking out for any threats.

"Hey Sam."

"Yeah?"

"Notice not even the birds are chirping anymore?"

"Yeah, usually means there's something evil around."

"Or a bigfoot."

Sam silently chuckled. "Or a bigfoot."

Max came back from the top of the tree. "Okay, so to the North it looks like maybe there's some brush that's been knocked down, maybe bedded in or just knocked over from the weight of something. I could see what looked like dead animals to the East so we know for a fact that's not the way to go. I couldn't tell anything in the West. Nothing to say one way or the other, so we have two options, we could split, one of us take each direction, or two of us one way and one the other, or we could just pick a way and stay together."

"I almost feel like we should go West." Dean replied. "I mean if Harry is smart enough to leave his kills away from his home then why would he leave anything else marking it? I say, we go check out what you said looked like some brush knocked down and if it's nothing then we go West."

The other two agreed, heading toward the broken-down brush.

"Be careful." Max reminded them. "It could be a trap."

Once they arrived at the brush, they carefully moved the brush out of the way, exposing a deep hole someone had dug into the ground. It appeared to be at least ten feet deep.

"Looks like someone else is hunting this thing too." Max said.

"Looks like he found him." Dean replied, looking up into a tree.

There was a man, who appeared to have fallen from a tree stand he was tied to, he was hanging upside down, his body torn open and insides missing.

"This thing can climb trees?" Sam said shocked.

"Looks like it." Dean replied.

"Okay, so we know it didn't go this way." Max pointed beyond the trap. "So, lets head West."

The boys walked for what seemed like an entire day, chasing one clue after another. It was getting dark, the sun had started going down. They hadn't realized it, since where they were at was dark anyhow. Suddenly, they heard a loud, earth shattering roar.

It was like all the bears in the world had decided to roar at the same time. It stopped them in their tracks, causing them to scatter to a near by tree for cover. Everyone's hearts were pumping fast, their breath uncontrolled. Trembling hands held their bodies to their trees.

"I think we're close." Dean didn't have to say anything, they already knew that, but he felt the need anyhow.

"You think?" Sam replied sarcastically.

"You two hush!" Max instructed.

"Bigfoots aren't real. Bigfoots aren't real." Dean started repeating to himself in a whisper.

They could hear the trees rustle. Branches moving and snapping. There was no wildlife in the area, no birds, no deer, not even a rabbit that they had seen. Nothing.

"Ready your guns boys, sounds like it's coming this way." Max whispered out.

The boys were ready, they were ready to stop this thing that festered the fear they were feeling. They were ready to kill something, to get rid of another evil.

"AAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHH!"

The high pitched squeals of a scream startled Sam and Dean. It was coming from Max. They both turned, guns aimed. The creature had Max, his long claws dug deep inside him, slicing him open as his intestines fell to the ground. Another loud growl from the monster as Max let out his last attempt at a scream of pain.

Sam's gun rattled through Dean's ears, the bullet whizzing past his head, landing right in the middle of the creature's head, it fazed him, but didn't kill him, didn't stop him.

"DEAN!"

Sam yelled out, Dean was frozen, he was watching his friend, one of the few people he ever felt safe with, the man who had tried to give up everything to save him, being ripped apart, his insides falling to the ground, soon to be a feast for the thing killing him.

"NOOOOOO!"

Dean shouted as he emptied his riffle into the creature, causing it to fall backwards, stumbling, trying to keep its balance, then Sam's riffle finished filling it, leaving it in a pile of death in the forest. Dean ran to Max.

"No nononononono, no please, no!" Dean was on his knees, bent over his friend. "Max! no!"

Sam made sure the creature was dead then stepped behind his brother, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Dean, I'm sorry, man, I'm sorry." Sam walked away, to ready things for the disposal of the creature and Max's remains, giving Dean a moment with his body. "We gotta do this." Sam spoke again. "We gotta get rid of the remains."

Dean just nodded, he had no words to say. He helped lift the bigfoot, placing it on the makeshift fire pit, then carried Max's body, laying it on top of Harry. Covering them with fluid and lighting a match.

"Rest in peace good friend."

Dean dropped the matches onto the bodies, watching them burn away. Neither of them felt good about setting a fire in the middle of the forest, but leaving evidence like a bigfoot would cause more problems than a forest fire would. Once the fire had died down enough that they were satisfied it wasn't going to catch anything on fire, they both agreed they needed to find Harry's home, make sure he was the only one.

Silently, without a word spoken, they brothers made their way deeper into the forest in search of its home. The smell was a giveaway, the closer they got the worse it was. It was the pure stench of death, rotting death, food, the insides of animals and humans, stored for what appeared to be the upcoming winter. After searching the nest and burning it to the ground, the boys were satisfied that Harry was a loner.

After the fire was out they headed back to the place they burned the bodies. Sitting to rest, they watched the remainder of the fire go out, leaving nothing but ashes of what was. Broken hearted, Dean felt like a piece of him died there too. Still silent, they made their way out of the forest.

Sam had attempted to speak to Dean but quickly found Dean had no interest in talking. It felt like the longest drive of Dean's life. The short distance between the edge of town and the motel felt like hours. Once inside, Dean made his way to the bathroom.

"I gotta shower."

"You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah."

Sam just nodded his head. "When you get out, I'll put on fresh bandages."

He pointed at Dean's arm, getting a nod as a response his brother disappeared into the other room. Sam started gathering Max's belongings. He had taken his research and added it to his. Placed his weapons in the trunk of the impala and his clothing and other personal belongings in Max's car.

They knew the routine. They had to rid of any evidence. They would drive his car to some deserted place, leaving his personal belongings inside, and set it on fire, burning the remains of their friend. Once Dean was finished he sat on the edge of the bed, allowing Sam to place fresh bandages over his arm. Still, not a word was spoken.

"I'm gonna go shower, you gonna be okay?" Sam asked.

Dean just nodded his head and waved his brother away. Once Sam was in the other room, Dean allowed his body to fall onto the bed. He was physically and mentally exhausted. He had plans on talking to Max when they returned, he needed to talk to him, to get somethings out that he's been holding onto.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. They were just going to find its home, to scope the place out. Tomorrow, they were supposed to have tomorrow. Tomorrow was when they were going to go for the kill. Once they knew what they were up against and had a plan they would go back and kill it.

It wasn't supposed to kill one of them, wasn't supposed to be killed until tomorrow. Dean was now remembering why he never allowed anyone to get close, why he couldn't keep a relationship or friends. This is why he wouldn't hunt with other hunters, even after they found out others would get together and there was like a hunter's club or something like that.

Dean would never be a part of anything that involved others. This is why. They always ended up dead, everyone ended up leaving, everyone ended up dead. The only person he ever had was Sammy. But, even he left, he's left a couple different times. He didn't even want to be around him. He never wanted anything to do with the hunting life.

Dean was beginning to wonder why he ever drug his brother back into this. He should have left him at college, should have left him to live the apple pie life. Maybe Sam and Dad were right, maybe Dean was just a girl, couldn't handle being alone. Couldn't handle the tough stuff, like losing people. He should be used to this by now. Death shouldn't bother him, being alone shouldn't bother him, but it did.

It bothered him more than he would ever be able to admit. 'Just the Winchester luck' he thought to himself. It seemed, here lately, they couldn't catch a break, if it could happen, it was pretty much guaranteed to happen to them. Dean couldn't understand what the universe had against them. Why their luck seemed to run so dry. Why the only thing he's felt the past, almost 2 years, is heartache and pain.

He was so tired of feeling this way, so tired of feeling like, even when they win, they lose. He was sure that God, or someone else out there, someone bigger than he was, was laughing at him, that this was their own private sick joke, to make him suffer, to make life miserable, to see how much he could take before he broke. Hell, he knew he was cracked, he had enough cracks in him he wasn't sure how he was still holding together, but for some unknown reason, he still hasn't broken, not completely, but he wasn't far, he knew he wasn't.

He felt like if one more thing happened, that's all it would take, didn't even have to be something big, could just be one small thing, it would shatter him to the point he couldn't be repaired.

Sam had walked out of the bathroom, after finishing his shower, talking to someone on his phone. Dean didn't even realize at first, until he started hearing muffled sounds that caught his attention, then turned into words, then they were words he could understand.

He rolled over, on his side, propping his body on his elbow, resting his head in his hand, he faced his brother watching him, sitting on the bed, talking to someone, about… something. Sam hung up.

"Who was that?"

"Get some sleep, princess, we gotta make it an early morning."

"Why?"

"Because, we got a case."


	7. Chapter 7

CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD

SPIDERWEBS, DUST, AND COBWEBS

CHAPTER 7

"I'm a failure at everything else, only seem fit that I failed at this too."

Dean sat in a chair, across from a desk where the psychiatrist was sitting. His sleeve pulled up, bandages removed, baring the hard truth, there for God and everyone to see, the deep slice that he cut into his arm, littered with stitches that were required to stop the bleeding. He was sitting there, admitting that the injury was an attempt to end his own life.

"I've held my own gun to my head more times than I can count, I just never seemed to have the balls to pull the trigger."

Dean hated this. He hated admitting his weaknesses, letting the truth fill the air. Here he sat, admitting that he was suicidal. Admitting that he had attempted it, tried to force himself to pull his own trigger. He was admitting he had lost the will to live, lost any interest he may have in life.

The psychiatrist agreed that he felt Dean was a danger to himself.

"It's a mandatory 72-hour hold, we'll start you on some medications that should help, and get you someone to talk to about what's causing you this heartache. We'll work on getting you back to your old self, find your will to live again."

Dean silently nodded, going through the routine of a medical exam, checking his belongings for any sharp objects or strings that could be of a danger to him or other patients at the facility. Dean hated this. He felt like he had done something wrong, like he was being punished for feeling so miserable.

He was brought to his room, where he unpacked his belongings, giving his bag back to the nurse that observed his unpacking, being sure nothing was missed during the initial search. Dean's medical exam showed that his arm was healing without infection. Dean felt naked and unprotected without a weapon. The had put his jacket with his bag in a locked room, his boots were also removed, Dean figured he didn't need them since they were wanting to remove the shoestrings anyhow.

He was in a simple pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt with socked feet. He sat alone, in a room full of people. Not all the people in the room were crazy, some of them were there because they were depressed and suicidal, the same reasoning for Dean to be there. Some of them were long term patients. Dean observed each individual, taking note of the ones who seemed crazy and those who seemed to be mostly sane.

"Mr. Winchester?"

The voice broke Dean from his thoughts, as he looked up from where he was seated he saw an older gentleman, he was wearing normal looking clothes, with an ID badge that announced he worked there and wasn't one of the patients. It had his name and picture on it, not that Dean cared about his name.

"Come with me please." The voice added.

Dean stood and followed the man who led him to a small office.

"Hello, Dean. My name is Dr. Willow."

A nice-looking woman sat at the desk in the room.

"Please, come in and have a seat." she said, pointing to the couch in the room.

Dean, his hands tucked in his pockets, walked into the room and sat on the couch. The woman in front of him looked to be about the same age as Dean. Her hair was a light brown color, pulled into a tight ponytail. She was wearing a white blouse covered with a grey sweater that buttoned up the front. She wore it unbuttoned, with a fancy necklace hanging over her blouse where the sweater separated.

Her voice was a calm, soothing tone. Her office was neat and orderly. She had pictures of Africa and the animals that lived there hanging on the walls. A small statue of an elephant sat on her desk beside her name plaque. Dean sat silently, observing everything in the room he was sitting.

It was hunter's instinct, he had to know everything that was around him, anything that could be useful if needed, or harmful if the wrong creature got a hold of it. Dr. Willow sat in her seat, watching Dean take in his surroundings.

"Mr. Winchester?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I'm going to be your therapist while you are at our facility."

Dean just nodded his head, he didn't really know what to say.

"Can you tell me a little about what brings you here?"

Dean cleared his throat. "What do you want me to say?"

"Whatever you want."

"Well, I failed at trying to kill myself, which basically ended me here. End of story."

"So, that's it? That's your whole story? I'm sure there's more to your life than just that."

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"So, what is the story behind the reason you feel the need not to live anymore?"

Dean shrugged again. "I mean, life sucks, what more is there to say?"

Dr. Willow knew she would have her hands full with this one. "How does your life suck?"

"My mom died when I was little, and everything just snowballed from there."

"How did she die? And how old were you?"

"I was four, and we had a house fire, she didn't make it out, I got my baby brother out of the house while our dad tried to save Mom, but he wasn't able to."

"Did your dad make it out?"

"Yes ma'am."

"So, he raised you and your brother? Did he ever remarry?"

"NO! I raised me and Sammy, and he was too caught up in himself to ever find someone else."

"What do you mean YOU raised you and, Sammy is it?"

"Only I can call him Sammy!" Dean was getting defensive. "Everyone else calls him Sam. And, I didn't think I stuttered, I said exactly what I meant, Dad didn't have anything to do with raising us, he was barely around, and hardly left enough money to even be able to get enough food to feed us while he was gone. I taught him how to walk, how to talk, I changed his diapers and got up for 2 AM feedings, not Dad, me."

"When your dad was around, what was it like?"

"He was a drunk, and an ass, most of the time. He basically said he had to teach me how to be tough, which consisted of a lot of beatings and rigorous exercise routines."

"And your brother?"

"Dad never touched him! I made sure of that! I made sure my brother was safe, that he didn't get hurt. In fact, that's a deal I made with Dad, he could do anything he wanted to me, but wasn't allowed to touch my brother."

"I see. So, what were his beatings like?"

"What does it matter?"

"It matters a lot, especially if we're going to get to the bottom of what's causing you so much grief."

"I know what's causing it, it's not his damn beatings! The damn words he threw at me hurt worse than any fist he could throw, that, and I hated being his personal sex object, but it wasn't that bad, not until Sammy left."

Dean had stopped talking, he didn't mean to say what he did, he had anger filling him. He didn't even want to be here, he sure as hell didn't want to spill his guts to some damn doctor.

"Were did Sam go?"

"He went to college, to be a lawyer." Dean's tone changed to pride.

"What happened after he left?"

Dean just shrugged his shoulders, he tried to fold himself into an invisible being, but wasn't able to. He did not want to answer that. He wasn't ready to talk about this stuff with anyone else.

"Dean, I really need you to talk to me, answer my question."

"Doesn't matter, it's in the past."

"If it didn't matter, if it was truly in the past, then it wouldn't be bothering you right now."

"Whatever."

"Dean, you're doing good, don't shut down on me now."

"He turned me into his own personal prostitute. The thing is, he didn't even get money, he got a damn endless bar tab. That's what he traded me for, because he was pissed! Because I allowed my little brother to leave. I allowed him to have his own life away from us. It was my fault, so I got punished. That's it, there's your answer, I'm done."

"For now, Dean, I want to see you at least twice a day while you're here, if you need to talk or need anything at all, I want you to feel free to come talk to me. I'll be seeing you again later today. But, for now, I'm going to write a prescription for some medicine that I think will help take the edge off, help you calm down and feel more comfortable."

Dean hadn't realized, at some point, his body had started shaking. He was curled into a ball sitting on the couch. He was trying his hardest to will this not to be true, to make himself believe this was only a dream. He stood without another word and walked out of the office.

He didn't care if the doctor gave him permission or not, he was done and wasn't wanting to sit in that room any longer than he already had. He walked back into the big room where the other patients were at. He tried to sit in a chair, but was too anxious, he needed to escape the busyness of the people around him.

He retreated back to his room, closing his door behind him. He wasn't sure if he could do this, he just wanted to run away, to be anywhere but there. At this moment, he really disliked his brother. Why was he the one who had to be the bate, again? And where was Sam? Shouldn't he be here by now? Dean wanted to do nothing more than spend his time in the solitude of his room, but he had a job to do, and knew it wouldn't be easy surrounded by people who were labeled crazy.

So, with a deep sigh, Dean forced himself out of his room and down the hall, he wasn't sure where he was going. He decided he would wonder the halls and see what the place had to offer. He didn't think he was going to have any luck in the big room full of people.

The first hall he explored was filled with patient's rooms. On each side of the hall were doors that lead into the individual rooms. After being sure no one was around, he silently opened a few of the doors, peaking into other's rooms, seeing what they held.

They were all set up the same. A single size bed in the middle of the room, beside it was a nightstand with one small drawer and a lamp that hung on the wall above it. Across the room was a dresser that held nothing on top of it, and a small table in the remaining empty space that had one small chair sitting at it.

It didn't seem much different than the many motel rooms Dean had stayed in during his life, in fact the only thing that was different was the single bed instead of two. The rooms held a small bathroom, Dean was thankful for that, he didn't want to share a bathroom with strangers.

It consisted of a toilet that didn't have a lid, a small sink attached to the wall, a fake mirror that couldn't be shattered. Dean laughed at the mirrors, he wondered why motels didn't have them, it would save them a lot in repair bills, at least in the rooms hunters stayed. There was a shower in there as well, actually it was more of a small tile step that contained a drain in the floor between the step and the wall with a shower head that didn't seem like it would be big enough to let much water out and button you pushed for the water to run.

There wasn't a shower curtain or anything that could possibly be considered dangerous to the mentally ill. After making his way down the first hall, he began to examine the next hall, with much disappointment the hall was much the same as the last, doors lining the walls, wooden doors with a small window in them, he supposed it was so the care takers could check in on the patients even when their doors were closed.

Dean imagined it was much like prison, not much privacy or individuality. After exploring the patient halls, he made his way through the room where everyone seemed to gather. It was a large room that had chairs lining the majority of the walls. In the middle was a large table with coloring books and old crayons. There were a few people sitting at the table coloring like a child. Around the room were a few other smaller tables, one table contained two chairs, another table contained four.

There were magazines and newspapers sitting around in various places. Some of the patients were sitting at the other tables, reading the different magazines, some where in the chairs against the walls. Dean couldn't help but notice, the ones he decided were mostly sane, they appeared to be bored, while the ones he considered insane were content reading the old magazines and coloring the children's books.

Some were even so comfortable they found a place to nap in the midst of the others. Dean made his way out of the room and down a different area of the building. These halls contained offices, most likely the therapist or doctor offices. He found a room that appeared to be a workout room, or perhaps it was used for some type of physical therapy.

The doors were locked closed, leaving it inaccessible to the patients. Dean wondered why they would even have that room if it couldn't be used. He wondered if even that was considered too dangerous in a place like this. He found some doors that lead to storage rooms, and one that appeared to be the employee breakroom.

He found a treatment room, he figured maybe if someone came in injured that was were they would fix them up. As he continued his exploring he found what he would consider the padded rooms, they had large windows in the walls and door of the rooms, there were two, with a bathroom between them. The bathroom was only accessible by leaving the rooms, which remained locked. The windows appeared to be shatter proof and there were cameras in the corners of the rooms. There was one single mattress in each room and nothing else.

Dean shivered when he thought of being locked in one of those rooms, but, he figured they probably had some real padded rooms somewhere. The kind that didn't have any windows, the ones you could throw yourself against the walls and scream as loud as you wanted without anyone hearing and seeing you, of course, those rooms probably had cameras too.

"Finding what you're looking for?" A familiar voice startled him.

"Uh…" He turned to see Dr. Willow standing behind him. "Just seeing what this place is all about."

"Well, there's really nothing to see, except a lot of hallways filled with doors. All the rooms pretty much stay locked unless they are being used."

Dean just nodded his head, he had already figured that out. "Thanks captain obvious." He said under his breath but loud enough the doctor heard him and gave him a small chuckle.

"I've noticed you have this 'need' to know everything about your surroundings, to know what you're, I don't know, up against? Any particular reason why?"

Dean just stared at her for a moment before answering with the most sarcastic tone he could come up with, the one that said she was stupid, it should be obvious. "For safety."

"Are you afraid someone is going to hurt you here?"

Dean didn't stop his exploring for some silly conversation, so the doctor followed as he continued on. "You never know."

"So, what exactly do you expect to find? What are you looking for?"

"I don't know, anything I may find helpful, you know, just in case. Someplace to hide, or an escape, if needed."

"Dean, there's no way to leave here except through the front doors."

Dean chuckled to himself, there was always a way out of everywhere, you just had to know how to use what you had, you had to know your surroundings, "That's not the type of escape I was talking about."

"Then what were you talking about?"

"Safety, I thought we already clarified that?"

"Yeah, safety from someone you think is going to hurt you while you're here." The doctor just nodded her head, repeating what Dean had already said. "Have you had to do this your whole life? Know your surroundings, to stay safe."

"Yeah, pretty much."

"From who? Who did you have to stay safe from?"

Dean paused, he hadn't been paying attention to what he was saying, not until he was asked that. He couldn't be honest, he couldn't tell her he had to be safe from the monsters, the monsters that in her mind didn't exist. So, he gave the next truthful answer, which wasn't a complete lie.

"My dad."

The truth is, he did fear his dad, he did have to know his surroundings and all the hiding places he could find, but not for him, for Sammy. Dean didn't hide from his dad, he faced him like a man. He took what the man dished out so he could protect his little brother.

The hiding places, when he was younger, was so he could play hide and seek with his brother, so Sammy could hide and not witness his dad's beatings. But those two simple words brought a world full of weights down on Dean's shoulders. He didn't want to continue this conversation, he didn't want to explain what he meant. He didn't want this crazy woman thinking he was weak and hid from anyone. He only hid from monsters, and that was only so he could be more prepared to face them, to kill them.

"Why did you have to hide from your dad?"

Dean knew that would be her next question. He stopped walking, stood up straight, squared his shoulders, and looked her straight in her eyes.

"I didn't!"

"That's not what you just said."

"Look, I never hid from my dad. I never ran from him either. I took what he gave me. I took it like a man and didn't complain, not once. The hiding places, the escape, that was for my brother. I had to keep him safe, I couldn't let him see what our dad was capable of. I had to know my surroundings to protect him, not me." Dean turned on his heals and started walking away from the doctor, giving an audible sigh when she continued to follow.

"So, you protected your brother from seeing, or even knowing about, your father's abuse?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"How bad was it that you felt like he didn't need to see?"

Again, Dean stopped and turned to the doctor. "It doesn't matter how bad anything was or wasn't. The fact still remains that my brother didn't need any images ground into his head, he didn't need to grow up with that. He needed to keep his innocence, there's enough crap in this world, enough stuff out there to mess anyone up. He deserved a chance, he deserved to start his life protected."

Again, Dean turned and walked away. He had hoped this woman would stop following him, but he didn't have such luck.

"And you? You didn't deserve that?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because, I'm the big brother, it's my job to protect my pain in the ass little brother."

"So, what about your childhood? Your innocence?"

"What childhood? I didn't have any innocence, not once my mom died, it all ended that night."

"How old were you again?"

"Four."

"And your brother?"

"Six months."

"So, according to what you've said, you were a four year old, little boy, who raised his six month old baby brother. You made his bottles, fed him baby food, changed his diapers, gave him baths, tucked him in bed, woke up in the middle of the night with him, kissed his boo boos, taught him to talk, walk, ride a bike, whatever he needed. All while your father was absent from your lives?"

"I never said he was absent, he was around, he was usually drunk, but he was around. For a while anyhow, the older we got the less he was around. He found jobs different places, moved us around a lot so we would be closer, usually we just lived in motel rooms because they were cheaper and he didn't plan on staying long. But, yeah, sometimes he'd have to leave us alone, sometimes as long as a couple weeks at a time, but I always made sure my brother was taken care of, I made sure he was fed and that he was learning as much as he could."

She felt sad for him. "And, what about you, Dean? Who made sure you were fed and taken care of?"

Dean just rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure we've already had this conversation when we first met. I took care of myself. I didn't need anyone. I grew up, and grew up fast. I may have been young, but age is just a number, if I could take care of a baby, don't you think I was capable of taking care of myself?"

"You said, when your dad was around he was usually drunk, so who took care of him?"

"I did. Don't worry your pretty self, my family was taken care of, I made sure of that."

Dean leaned against an empty spot on the wall, he hadn't expected memories to come creeping in. He didn't want to be having this conversation anyhow, it was making it hard to concentrate on his job.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here, and say something entered your mind that you didn't want to? Something about making sure your family was taken care of, perhaps?"

"You just think you're so smart, don't you?"

Dean knew she was right, knew she knew what she was talking about, but Dean being Dean, he couldn't face things head on, he had to leave his sarcastic comments, had to laugh in the face of danger, had to do everything he could to protect his mind, to keep the memories from tearing him apart.

"So, how exactly did you have to make sure your family was taken care of? And, I'm going to assume we aren't talking about your brother anymore."

Dean just rolled his eyes and dropped his head, staring at the floor. "doesn't matter."

"Of course it does."

"Why?"

"Because you matter." Dean looked up at her, tears threatening his eyes. "Dean, you're here because, obviously, something in your life hasn't gone right, something has hurt you bad enough that you lost your will to even live your life anymore. I want to help you get that back. I want to help you work past your pain, because your life matters, you matter. I'm sure, even if you think you don't, you at least matter to your brother. There's no way you could raise him the way you say and have him not look up to you, not love you."

"That's where you're wrong. I don't matter. The only thing I've ever been good for is to be a punching bag, to keep Dad and all his friends satisfied and happy with their lives. Well, that and I'm good for a night filled with an endless bar tab. But that's it. Nothing else. And, Dad died a few years ago, so even that, even as fucked up as it sounds, those things that made me matter, they're gone. So, you're wrong. I have no other purpose, nothing else to make me matter to anyone."

Before the doctor could respond, Dean looked up, shock filled his body, there, behind the doctor, stood his brother. He had heard everything he had just said. He wasn't sure how long he had been standing there, the last time he looked up, he wasn't there, but that had been awhile ago. And, by the look on Sam's face, Dean had no doubt his brother just heard his confession.

He had heard how, even though he hated every minute of it. He hated being beat on, he hated being a sex object. The truth was, that's what he found worth in. He, honestly, thought that was the only thing he was worth. He didn't know what else his purpose was, besides taking care of everyone else's needs, even if it meant he was hurt in the process. She opened her mouth to reply but Dean quickly stopped her.

"I'm done!"

He said as he walked past the doctor and past his brother, rubbing shoulders against Sam as he walked by. Dean needed that reassurance that his brother was there, even if it was a simple brush as he hurried by.

He couldn't look at Sam, kept his head lowered to the floor, he knew his way around the halls by now and didn't have any problem making his way to his room in a hurry. He closed his door, falling backwards against a nearby wall and sliding himself down to the floor. He assumed the position that had become all too familiar.

His knees to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around. This time, he didn't have the energy to remain seated as he allowed his body to continue sliding down the wall and falling onto his side on the floor, curled up in what one would consider a fetal position. Dean hated this. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to be here. Job or no job, he just wanted to leave, wanted to escape from it all.


	8. Chapter 8

CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD

SPIDERWEBS, DUST, AND COBWEBS

CHAPTER 8

Sam had been hired on by the mental hospital as janitor and maintenance personnel. He had figured Dean would pass as someone needing mental health better than he would. They both couldn't be patients, it would make it harder to have access to different areas of the facility.

Sam had received a call from another hunter, asking for the brothers' help. There was something killing people at the facility. The best they could figure out, it was a ghost, possibly a vengeful spirit. But, the fact that everyone was medicated and some of the patients were long term, deemed insane, unable to function in normal society, made getting the correct information that much more difficult.

The hunter who requested their help had completed all the questions and investigation he could without seeming suspicious and needed a new set of eyes, new physical bodies, to help. Someone the facility wouldn't expect. The information they were given was the spirit was possibly an old patient, someone who was mistreated, maybe even killed, or at least died there, and their death was covered up.

There were no deaths recorded at the facility, but according to patients who had been there for many years, there has been more than one death that has occurred, and it was the patients the workers didn't like, the ones they would mistreat. There were several rooms that were locked off from the patients, rooms Sam had hoped he would have access to, since he needed to clean them, or repair something inside the locked doors.

He knew he would be running into his brother, Dean was working the case from the other side of things. He was the patient, the one who could get closer to the others, ask questions without raising suspicion. He was the one who would be using the rooms for things like group therapies, or whatever they did there. He also had access to patient rooms, and no one would question him walking down the halls in what would appear to be boredom or maybe even a medicated confusion. What he didn't expect, was to hear the confession his brother had made.

Secretly, Sam was hoping this case would help his brother. He was hoping he'd play his role and entertain the therapists and doctors, but in the process that he would fill them with the truth, pretending it wasn't of course, but that he would be able to release some things he was holding onto, be able to get some helpful advice, or maybe just an ear to listen.

He was partly thankful that he overheard his brother's conversation with the doctor, but was also heartbroken over what he had heard. Dean's confession that he felt lost in life. Not for the normal reasons, but because the only thing he was able to find worth in was raising his brother and keeping his dad happy. Now, both of those were gone.

Sam kept pushing himself further away from Dean, he didn't want to be treated as a kid anymore, he made it clear he didn't need his brother taking care of him. And lately, Dean has done more leaning on Sam than either of them could have ever imagined.

Sam knew Dean had a need to keep his brother close. He knew he was afraid of being alone, afraid of a lot of things he would never admit to. But, Sam couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that his fear was caused by not being abused. In a way, his abuse gave him a purpose. It kept his dad happy, kept his family happy, he was serving his purpose, keep Sammy happy, healthy, and safe, and keep Dad satisfied and give him the perfect soldier to order around.

Dean felt a type of accomplishment with that. He was able to fulfil his purpose, but now, now he had nothing. Nothing that he could say he was able to accomplish, nothing but the normal day to day life they lived.

Sam pretended like he didn't hear the conversation, he had an ear phone in one ear, pretending there was music coming from it, but actually it was attached to the EMF reader in his pocket. Dean knew he heard, he made eye contact with him, saw the look in his brother's eyes, but the doctor didn't.

Sam made sure she didn't know he had overheard them. In fact, he acted like he didn't even acknowledge they were there, like he was lost in his own world. He did glance up when Dean brushed against him as he walked by, but that was because what normal person wouldn't? Then he continued on with his work, not giving the doctor any indication he even cared about what they were talking about.

He figured the less he had to communicate with the person his brother was pouring his heart out to, the better.

Sam had made his way down the same halls Dean did, there were no EMF spikes, neither brother found anything to raise any suspicions, not during the day anyhow. Dean hadn't witnessed any mistreatment between the care takers and the patients.

He wondered if maybe he should cause some problems, make them want to mistreat him, maybe he could see things differently, maybe he would be visited by the ghost? He quickly decided against it. He didn't want to be here any longer than he needed to be, and besides Dr. Willow, no one else seemed to even notice him.

He almost felt invisible, like a no body in the midst of everyone that surrounded him. He had made his way back to his room, allowing himself to clear his head. Sam had slipped into Dean's room giving him the equipment he had snuck in for him.

"How's it going?"

"I'm surrounded by crazy people, how do you think it's going?"

Sam laughed to himself. "Yeah, and right now, you're one of them."

"Not funny, dude. I don't know why I gotta be the one who's crazy."

"Because, you fit the part, you're much more believable than I am."

"Gee, thanks! I'm even beginning to sound like one of them, huh?"

Sam knew what Dean was referring to, but chose to try to ignore it. "You've always sounded like one of them."

Dean, sat in silence for a moment. "So, um… sorry you had to hear what I said. I tried to get away, to stop the conversation, but she kept following me, and wouldn't shut up." Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at the floor.

Sam cleared his throat. "Do you really feel that way?"

Dean, looking up at his brother just shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, maybe." They heard foot steps coming down the hall. "You better go."

Dean reminded Sam this was not the time or place for them to be having this conversation. Sam nodded his head and left Dean's room, pretending he was cleaning something Dean had requested to be cleaned.

Dean had tucked the items Sam brought away. He wasn't sure how he was going to hide them on his body, but knew he had to figure it out, but right now, he didn't have the time. There was a knock on the door and one of the workers opened his door, peaking his head inside.

"Group meeting in 5."

Dean just stared at him, he didn't have a clue what a group meeting was, and really didn't care.

"You're required to be there."

The man added before exiting his room and closing the door behind him. Dean just rolled his eyes, he had gathered his things and made his way into the bathroom, even though there wasn't a door to separate it from his room, it was the only privacy he could find.

He was thankful Sam had left him some tape and a few other items he might need. He taped his special designed EMF reader to his body, hidden by his clothing. This was one he actually spent money to buy. It was small, small enough to hide without a problem. It also had a vibrating setting. He couldn't risk it making any noises, he needed to keep it as hidden as possible.

No lights, no sounds, just a small vibration only he would be able to feel. He figured that was enough for now. He wanted to make sure he was able to hide it, and get away with it, before attempting anything else. He hid the remaining items in the room and at the sound of the voice over the speaker announcing it was group time, he made his way out of his room and toward the crowd of people who were walking into one of the rooms that was previously locked.

It was another large room. It had a giant circle of chairs in the middle of it. Along the edges of the walls were things that appeared to be placed there for some type of game or activity. Probably some stupid group thing, Dean thought. He sat in the chair closest to the door that he could find. He couldn't understand how so many of them seemed excited about coming in here, they were laughing and smiling and excited about… what? Playing some stupid caring and sharing game?

That's only what Dean could imagine, and honestly, he didn't feel much like playing some game with the others. He wanted to be left alone. Case or no case, he wasn't himself, he hasn't been himself for a long time, he had a head full of nightmares, and just wanted to be able to sit in the silence, alone, and dwell on them.

He was right. They announced they were going to pass a ball, a silly bouncy ball, like one kids would play with. It was green and had smiley faces all over it. They said the rules were, you had to toss the ball to someone, anyone, and when that person got the ball they had to share something that made them sad, then they had to toss it to someone else and the process repeated.

They said once everyone had a turn then they would continue, but sharing something that made them happy instead. Dean couldn't help but roll his eyes. This was stupid. He didn't need some smiley face ball and room full of strangers to know what made him happy and sad.

What would make him happy would be to get rid of the son of a bitch that was haunting this place and get the hell out of here. What made him sad? Being here. He wondered if that would be an acceptable answer. Of course, he couldn't add the part about the ghost, but leaving would make him happy.

He envied Sam, he got the easy part of this job. He got to go around, sweeping floors and cleaning toilets. Dean would much rather do that then this. Sam would find this whole ball game fun. He would probably be laughing and smiling like the others. He wouldn't have a problem sharing. He wouldn't have a problem with large groups of people.

Dean did. He didn't realize it, not really, not until now, but, he hated large groups of people. It caused him anxiety. He was raised to be aware of his surroundings and the people around him. He was raised with the belief that no one could be trusted, you didn't know who was human, who was in disguise and who was possessed.

They always avoided the big towns, there weren't too many cases in the big towns, seems they were mostly in the smaller, less populated areas, or maybe they were just more noticeable there? Other hunters didn't mind the big town hunts, but John Winchester had taught Dean the dangers of large populated areas. Of course, he also taught him the dangers of being alone, with only one or two people, in an unpopulated area too.

Dean was completely lost in his head, he didn't care about the crazy people around him. He nearly jumped out of his chair, wanting to pull his gun on what ever crazy animal just slammed a ball into his face. Then, just as quickly he remembered he was supposed to be playing some stupid game.

The ball rolled off his face and onto the floor, stopping in the middle of the circle. Everyone went silent. Dean guesses they couldn't possibly imagine why anyone wouldn't want to play the game. Dean took a quick glance around the room, noticing everyone had stopped to look at him. He stood, pushed his chair to the floor as he moved it out of the circle and he walked out of the room.

He could only imagine the whispers and shock that followed his exit, but he didn't care, they were all crazy for playing a child's game anyhow. He didn't get it. He never played children's games. Sure, with Bobby he would play football, but football was a man's sport, not something childish. He would toss balls, and roll them across the floor with Sammy, but Sammy was a kid, and the way Dean saw it, that was just one way that he had to take care of him, to keep him happy, and play the games he wanted to play.

Sam was in the hall, not far from the room Dean had left. He had to walk past him in order to get to his room.

"I can't do this!" He whispered as he walked past his little brother with his head hung low.

Sam wanted to reply, he wanted to tell him he could do this, that he was the strongest person he knew, he was strong enough to get this job done, and smart enough to figure his way through it. He wanted to tell his brother how much he was worth to this world, how he had a purpose far beyond being a punching bag, that he had a right to make sure he took care of himself too.

But, he couldn't. He was in the middle of a case. No one knew they knew each other, and he had to keep it that way. He wanted so badly to call out his brother's name, to make him stop walking away, but he had to bite his tongue, allow Dean to walk away.

Of course, since he left the fun game they were having with the group, it warranted a call to Dr. Willow. Dean went to his room. He was pissed! He ripped off the EMF reader with rage. Right now, he didn't care about that, besides, he figured there wouldn't be anything during the day.

He wasn't dumb even though he was upset. Once he ripped it off he put it in his hiding place. He punched the walls a couple times before throwing himself onto the bed. He hated that he had walked out like that. It was just a stupid game. He could have made up an equally stupid answer.

What made him sad? Abandoned puppies. What made him happy? Cute, fluffy, little puppies who had a good home and was loved. Or maybe even a newborn baby? Those are the answers normal people would give. What really made him happy? Killing the sons of bitches that killed others, ridding the world of monsters while they slept, that's what made him happy. That's what gave him a sense of pride.

Sex. Sex made him happy, as long as it was with a girl… never mind, scratch that. He didn't want to end up in the same place he found himself a year ago. He didn't want to be enjoying sex with a woman just to have it end with a group of guys that he wanted nothing to do with. But, still, that morning quickie in the diner bathroom a few months back was a nice experience.

Sammy, Sammy made him happy. He was happy when he saw his little brother happy. That's also what made him sad, if Sammy was sad it upset Dean and made him sad too.

Again, Dean found himself lost in his own head, he didn't hear anyone knock on his door, didn't hear it open, didn't notice anyone walking in. Not until they were in his peripheral vision. He jumped, throwing his hand under his pillow for his weapon, an instinct he would never lose.

He was ready to defend himself, even though his weapon wasn't there, he still had his hands, and his brains. It didn't take him long to notice the person who had entered his room was Dr. Willow. It took him a moment longer to recompose himself, to allow his body to relax, to get the message to his brain that he wasn't in danger, or at least he didn't think he was.

What if this woman in front of him had something to do with the spirit that haunted the place? What if she was possessed, or a monster, pretending to be a human. His uncertainty must have flashed over his face, into his eyes. She took the chair from the table and sat it in front of Dean.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, where he had jumped up at when he felt the threat enter his vision. His hands were still trembling. He wasn't sure why.

"Have you been taking the medicine I've ordered them to give you?"

The medicine, maybe that's why his hands were shaking? Maybe that's why he seemed to be getting so lost in his own head. He felt like he couldn't concentrate, maybe that was a side effect from the medicine? Maybe that was his body getting used to it?

How the hell was he going to be able to focus on this case? How was he supposed to get this job done if he couldn't even concentrate? He needed to not take the medicine, maybe pretend like he swallowed it but don't? Or, possibly vomit it back up after taking it? There had to be a way around it, a way to get his head back where it needed to be.

"Earth to Dean!"

"Huh?"

Dean was shocked when he realized he hadn't answered her, he had gotten lost in his head again. Had she noticed? Or did she think he was just being difficult? Maybe if she thought he was being difficult he would be put in one of those rooms with the cameras.

He could investigate another area if he was, but the thought sent shivers down his spine. He didn't want to be put in any room with damn cameras. He didn't want to be locked away like some animal. He didn't even want to be locked in here, and this was a big facility with enough space it didn't feel like the walls were falling down around him. If they would just leave him alone, let him do his job, then he'd be fine.

The soft touch on his knee sent a shock through Dean's body and caused him to jump.

"You back with me now?"

Dr. Willow was still sitting in front of him, trying to get his attention. Damn, Dean still hadn't answered her question, what was it again? Something about… hell, he couldn't remember. But, he needed to concentrate on her, to get this… whatever this was… over with.

Somehow, he had to get her to leave. He wasn't sure why she needed to leave, she just did. Maybe he was feeling the walls collapse around him after all. Maybe he was imagining it, or possibly he was on some type of a marry-go-round, or rollercoaster, causing his room to spin. Or, was that just his head? Making him feel like the room was spinning?

Either way it was starting to make him feel nauseated. He hadn't eaten anything in close to two days, that he was thankful for, meant there was nothing to throw up, or was it longer than two days? How long had he been here? What were the days like before he arrived? It all seemed like a blur to him.

He tried to stand, tried to get away from this woman sitting in front of him. Or, at least, he thought he had tried, but he still sat in the same place on his bed. He hadn't moved. He wasn't sure if he tried to push himself up or not, he wasn't even sure where his arms were, he couldn't feel them.

"Don't… feel… good…"

Dean managed to mumble out in slow slurred words before he fell forwards. Dr. Willow, sitting in front of him, caught him in her arms so he wouldn't face plant the floor. She gently laid him on the floor, calling on her walkie for some assistance, stating he needed to be seen by a medical doctor and needed to be moved to the treatment room.

She tried to talk to him, tried to get him to come back around, to acknowledge him, but didn't have any luck. They said they needed all the help they could get, and Sam was close by, so of course, he entered his room to assist as well. His brother laid on the floor, all the color drained from his face. He was awake but wasn't responding to anything, or anyone, around him.

His eyes were glazed over, they looked absent, like he wasn't in his own body. Sam wanted to run up to him, make sure he was okay, but he couldn't. He knew if Dean acknowledged him they would ruin the case, and he couldn't lie to his brother, he couldn't pretend that he wasn't his brother, not in his current state.

He was brought into the treatment room and met by a medical doctor who ordered them to place him in the bed in the room. Sam, tried to act normal, like he was only doing his job, entered the treatment room during the mad rush of the concerned workers. He went to the opposite side of the room, working on cleaning things, making sure nothing needed to be fixed.

"What happened?" the doctor asked.

"I'm not sure, I was trying to talk to him but he kept zoning out, then he just collapsed, and went pale." Dr. Willow informed him.

Sam heard them talking about the medications they had put him on and the side effects and possibility of changing them. They talked about how no one has seen him eat or drink since he arrived.

Dr. Willow talked about how much he just wanted to be alone and tried to escape to anywhere there weren't people every chance he got. Sam had to chuckle to himself with that, Dean never did like being around a lot of people. But, Sam had to agree, his brother had seemed different since arriving, he actually had started acting different the day before he arrived.

Sam wondered if he was being affected by the spirit that lived there, perhaps it knew he was coming and started on him the day before. Sam couldn't remember the last time his brother had eaten. He was sure that had something to do with his condition, he also didn't have any booze to drink, Sam made a mental note to sneak some in for him, maybe that would bring him back to himself, he needed him in order to complete this case.

He was informed they may not be able to finish it, it was the hardest case anyone had come across, and even harder not to raise suspicions. He was told if they couldn't finish it, then they would put their information with the rest and send someone else in next. But, no one else worked cases the same as Sam and Dean. So, Sam was sure they could get rid of this thing, except, now he wasn't so sure, now he was wondering if he just needed to get his brother out of there.

They had put Dean on an IV and gave him some meds to get rid of the effects of the medication the doctor had given him. Within an hour Dean was coming back around. His head was clearer. His thoughts were more his own and not some craziness. He didn't like the medication and made a mental note not to take anymore.

He noticed he was in the treatment room, it was close enough to a hospital that he didn't like it. He didn't want to stay. His eye sight was a little blurry, but when he looked around the room, he could have sworn he saw a woman, she was dressed in a long white nightgown. She had long blonde hair that flowed past her shoulders, covering one of her breasts.

She looked fuzzy, but he could make out some type of wound on the left side of her face, her arms looked skinny and frail. She couldn't be very old, in her 30s maybe? She raised her right arm, pointed at Dean, then flickered and disappeared. He dropped his head back on the pillow.

He wasn't sure if that was an affect from the medicine or if it was real, but he needed Sam. He couldn't ask for him, but he needed to tell him, before any other medication was given to him, causing his mind to blur and forget. He pulled out his IV and notices how wobbly he felt on his feet but made his way out of the room without being noticed.

He quickly found Sam. He didn't go far from his brother, he knew he couldn't stay in the room, but didn't want to leave him either. Dean wasted no time explaining to Sam what he had seen and where. Sam insisted he return before they questioned him and that he would check it out.

He saw the care takers starting to approach him, so he grabbed his brother and started leading him back to the room, speaking loud enough the others could hear him, telling him how he wasn't well and needed to lay back down and let the doctors take care of him. It was both, his attempt to keep his brother away from the people who were supposed to be taking care of him, and his way of entering the room to see if he could find anything.

When one of the workers entered the room, Sam was laying Dean in the bed and covering him up. He told them he would stay and watch over Dean if they wanted to go find the doctor. While they were gone, Sam quickly made his way to the spot Dean had pointed out. His EMF reader was going off, there was definitely something there.

Sam made a quick verbal reference to it telling it they were there to help and needed to know what it was wanting, then he made his way back to his brother to inquire about his condition. Dean quickly told him he wasn't going to take anymore medication and Sam told him his plan to bring him a good drink tomorrow, to help clear his head, but he was going to have to leave soon, his shift would be over, he told him he swapped shifts with someone so he wouldn't be back until the evening shift, that ghost was the first thing they found all day so he thought it better to see what he could find at night.

He told his brother to cooperate with them so he didn't end up getting in any trouble or finding himself mistreated the way they were informed some patients were. Dean agreed as the doctor entered the room. He didn't seem too happy. Once he was finished, Dean wasn't very happy either.

They had restrained him to the bed. He was thankful it wasn't with ropes, they used actual restraints, but still, he couldn't deny the fear that filled him, finding himself restrained to a bed. Sam took a last look at his brother, he had stepped out of the way, but not out of the room. The look he gave him said 'I'm sorry'. The look Dean gave back was full of panic and fear, almost begging him to hurry up and get him out of there.

Sam left, the doctor and all the workers left. They turned the lights off, leaving the room mostly dark, only the light from the hallway lit the room. He felt alone, desperate, scared. His hands and feet were tied to the bed, leaving him defenseless. He lifted his head when he felt the presence of someone in the room. There, at his feet, was the same woman, the ghost.

"Who are you?" Dean half whispered.

He wasn't sure if he would get a verbal answer, but he had enough dealings with spirits he knew if she wanted to answer she would find a way. She only lifted her arm, pointing at him again.

"I don't get it." Dean added in the same hushed tone. "I don't know what you're trying to tell me."

Suddenly, the ghost flickered and reappeared standing at his side, still pointing at him. Dean turned his head in shock, looking up at her. She looked normal except for the large wound on her face. She looked like, in her time, she was a beautiful lady.

He then looked down her body and noticed the large blood stain on her gown, in the area that told him there was possibly some type of sexual abuse that happened, or maybe even something to do with a baby? He wasn't sure, she then moved her finger down the length of his body, stopping her point at the crotch area.

"Where you hurt? There?"

It sounded like a stupid question but it was all Dean could manage to get his brain to allow out of his mouth. She dropped her hand to her side and her head at the same time. That was the answer he needed.

"I'm sorry." he whispered. "I… I want to help, I'm here to help, but I need to know more, I need to know how I can help."

She looked into Dean's eyes, the look in her eyes was nothing but sadness. She looked hurt and betrayed.

"What do I need to do?"

He was desperate for an answer, desperate to not feel so lost.

"I don't know what's going on here." He added.

She bent down, placing her face in front of his, as if she was examining him. He felt like she was trying to figure out if he could be trusted or not. He didn't move, he didn't feel any fear with her, didn't feel like she was a bad spirit, if there was one there, she wasn't it.

"Get rid of him!" she whispered in his ear then disappeared.

He wanted to ask who, until he noticed the reason she disappeared was because the medical doctor had entered the room. He glanced up at him, he had a blank expression on his face.

Dean pulled his arms against the restraints. "How about you let me out of these things? I'm not gonna hurt anyone."

"Are you sure about that?" The doctor asked as he retrieved a syringe from his jacket pocket, it was filled with some type of liquid. "You never know what the side effects of these medications can do to you." He said as he pushed the liquid into his IV.

"What is that?"

No answer.

"You son a bitch! What did you just give me?"

"Ahhh, feeling agitated already, it would be a shame if you got violent."

"I'm only going to get violent if you don't tell me what the hell you just gave me!"

The doctor shook his head. "It's a shame really, I hate that you just threatened me, you know that's going to go on your record. Looks like I need to leave you in those through the night, maybe in the morning you will be able to control yourself."

He gave him another injection in his IV. "That is for sleep."

He pulled the curtain around Dean, and closed the door, leaving him in complete darkness, leaving him completely alone, one of his greatest fears. He noticed it was cold in the room. The doctor had removed his covers, turning on the air conditioner as he left, he made sure it was on the coldest setting.

It was his warning to Dean, his warning not to threaten him because he had the upper hand there, not Dean. In a frozen state, the meds took over Dean's mind and he found himself falling into darkness as him eyes closed and his mind turned off.


	9. Chapter 9

CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD

SPIDERWEBS, DUST, AND COBWEBS

CHAPTER 9

The morning came, Dean woke, feeling frozen, he had pulled against his restraints during his sleep, leaving his wrists sore with marks rubbed into his skin. He couldn't remember his sleep, didn't know if he had nightmares or if he fought against them out of habit.

His wrists looked similar to the way the rope burns would look when he was younger, the only exception is these didn't dig into his skin leaving a bloody mess, these were just bruises and burn marks.

A different doctor entered the room in the morning. He made the comment about how cold it was. He even apologized, said the other doctor may not have noticed the air was on so cold. He asked Dean how he was feeling. Dean told him he was feeling better. Told him he didn't remember anything about yesterday, wasn't sure why he was there or what was going on.

Of course, this was a complete lie, but he knew it would get him out of his restraints and, with any luck, back into his room. The doctor checked him over and removed the restraints after asking a few questions being sure he didn't want to hurt himself or anyone else. Dean assured him he didn't.

He told Dean that Dr. Willow was wanting to see him, but first he was allowed to go to his room and shower and change. That she would be ready for him in about half an hour. Dean understood and headed to his room. He felt defeated, kept his head hung low, watching the floor as he walked.

He was never more thankful then when he entered his room. God, he wanted his brother so bad right now. He needed to tell him everything, needed to tell him what the ghost woman said, he was so afraid he would forget, he was afraid he would become drugged again, so he took the paper and crayon that was in his room and wrote his brother a note. He then showered and changed into some clean clothes, tucking the note deep in his pocket.

He felt a little better now that he was clean and warm. He dressed in a pair of jeans, t-shirt, and a hoodie. He had the need to cover the marks on his wrists, habit he guessed. It wasn't like everyone didn't know he was restrained.

He laid down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He had no way of knowing what time it was, no way of knowing how long a half an hour is. So, he just laid there. He didn't want to go around others, not yet. He knew he had to, he knew he had to figure out who that woman was and what had happened to her, but right now, he wanted to be alone, away from the doctors and restraints and the freezing room.

He didn't want anymore medications or medical care at all. There was a knock at the door, Dean sat up telling them to come in. It was one of the workers, Dean didn't know if he had seen him before or not, they all looked the same to him.

"Dr. Willow wants to see you." He informed him.

Dean just nodded his head and stood, following the person down the hall. He kept his head low and his hands shoved in his pockets, he figured that was the best way to keep out of trouble. He had learned how to avoid any additional punishments. He walked into her office and immediately took his seat on the couch. He didn't look at her, he kept his focus on the floor.

"You feeling better this morning?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Are you just saying that to make me happy, or are you really feeling better?"

Dean just shrugged his shoulders.

"Okay, well, you seemed to have a reaction to the medication I put you on, so I'm going to change it."

Dean shot his head up, looking at her. "No! please, no."

She was shocked by that reaction. "Why not? You don't wanna keep taking something you're gonna have a reaction to do you?"

"No ma'am."

"Then, what is it?"

Dean lowered his head again, looking back at the floor. "I… I don't want to take anything, ma'am."

"Dean, you need to take something, the right medicine with help you feel better."

Dean just shook his head.

"Okay, you don't wanna take anything. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't prescribe you any medications."

Dean was silent for a moment before answering. "Because… I'm scared."

"Of the medications?"

Dean just nodded his head.

"I see, are you afraid you're going to have another reaction the way you did yesterday?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Dean, what else are you scared of right now?"

Dean didn't answer, he tightened his body, just slightly, but no answer.

"Dean… I asked you a question… what else are you scared of right now?"

It took Dean a moment to come up with the right words to say. "Being punished."

"For?"

"For… not being strong, for allowing the medication to take over my body the way it did." He absentmindedly pulled his hands from his pockets and started rubbing his wrists.

"What's wrong with your wrists?"

Dean pulled his arms apart and tucked his hands between his legs, shaking his head.

"Let me see."

Again, Dean just tightened his body and shook his head.

"Dean, as your therapist, I need to make sure you haven't harmed yourself."

Dean rolled his eyes, putting his arms out, palms up, to show that he didn't have any cuts on his wrists, there was no way the restraint marks would ever go unnoticed.

"How am I supposed to harm myself when I spent the night tied to a damn bed?"

Dean didn't mean to have so much anger in his voice, but he was feeling a bit irritated by this point.

Dr. Willow reached out, taking a hold of each on of his arms and turning them back and forth looking at the marks. "They kept you restrained? In the treatment room? The entire night?" She sounded shocked.

Dean just nodded his head, pulling his arms away from her, tucking his hands between his arms again. Dr. Willow sat in silence for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts.

"Do you feel like it was a punishment for something?"

"Well I sure as hell didn't do anything to deserve it."

She was looking through his chart as they talked. "Says here, you threatened to hurt the doctor?"

Dean just chuckled. "Not exactly."

"Then what's your side of that story?"

"He gave me something, in my IV, when I asked if he could remove the restraints. He told me some crap about not being safe and I told him I was fine then he made some smartass remark about how you never know the way a medicine will react that it could make you violent, or some crap like that, while he put whatever he had into my IV. And, I told him if he didn't tell me what he gave me then I would get violent towards him. And that's pretty much it."

"It says here he gave you something to sleep."

"Yeah, that was later, after he claims I threatened him."

"Because you didn't want to be tied down?"

"Yeah something like that."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't have a clue what the hell he put in my body! Look woman, you wanna help? Keep that damn man away from me!"

"For his safety or yours?"

Dean wanted to say 'both', but he knew better. So, he just shut his mouth, he could feel the anger rising in him. He felt like he couldn't control it, why couldn't he control it? He was usually so much better at masking things, keeping his anger under control.

"Dean, for his safety or yours?" she repeated.

"I… I don't know…" Dean paused. "I don't know what's going on with me. I feel so angry, this isn't normal, something isn't right. What the hell did he give me?" Dean sounded honestly concerned, and confused.

"Dean, you were having one hell of a reaction to the medication, I'm sure you're still having some effects from it. He didn't give you anything but something to help you sleep."

Dean just shook his head, he didn't see the point in this anymore, she wasn't listening to him, wasn't believing what he was saying. "I'm done! What the hell is the point in this if you won't even listen, or believe, anything I say?" Dean stood to leave.

"Dean, sit down… please." Dean sat back down. "If you feel that strongly about it, I'll have a tox screen done, okay?"

Dean nodded his head. "Okay, right now?"

"I'd like to talk to you some more first."

"After I know you're listening." Dean raised his eyebrows, he wasn't about to bend on this, he wanted his blood drawn before it was out of his system.

"Okay, come with me, we'll have the doctor do it right now." She assured

The closer they got to the treatment room, the more anxiety raised in Dean. He was praying the doctor from last night wasn't back. Fear gripped him, his body started trembling. He suddenly realized, as they sat him in the chair to draw his blood, that these doctors worked together. He was sure he would be punished for this. He was sure they would talk about how crazy he was and he would be punished for telling on him.

"Dean, I need you to keep your arm as still as you can." The doctor requested as he tried to insert the needle to draw his blood.

Dean tried, he really did, but his body was denying him control. It had decided to start shaking and he couldn't stop it. The doctor held his arm still and drew the blood he needed to be sent to the lab.

"We should have the results back within a couple hours." He informed them.

"Thank you." Dr. Willow spoke as she helped Dean out of the chair.

He was still trying to gain control over his body. The more he thought about being punished the harder his body shook. He hadn't realized they made their way back into his office and he curled himself up on the couch.

"Dean, I need you to talk to me now."

Her voice broke through the silence, bringing Dean back to the present. He sounded like a child when he spoke, a voice filled with fear. "Am I going to get punished, for telling?"

"No, Dean, you're not, in fact he won't be in until tonight, so he won't even know."

Dean sat up in a hurry, he's coming back? That's all he had to hear for his body to stiffen.

"Dean, were you punished a lot when you were younger? I mean, when your dad was around, did he punish you a lot?"

Dean nodded his head.

"For what?"

"Anything. Everything."

"Like?"

"Like breathing."

"Okay, what else?"

"I don't know, I don't know if there even were reasons, because he felt like it? I don't know. He could walk past me and knock me in the head or push me into a wall. Once, when we were in a motel, he got pissed because I had the water running in the sink so he almost drowned me and slammed my head into the mirror."

She demanded an answer so he was going to give her one. "One time, I forgot to flush the toilet when I was teaching Sammy how to use the potty and he shoved my head in the toilet until I couldn't breathe anymore, then he made me stand in the shower the rest of the night with his shit on me."

He was angry! He didn't want to do this. "Then there were the times he said I had an attitude and would make me run for miles in the middle of the night. And let's not forget about the times he didn't think I kept our little motel room clean enough because he would litter it with his whiskey bottles, yeah, those beatings were always fun!"

He wanted to leave this room, to go back to his room alone, but there was no way he would be allowed to do that without giving her the answers she wanted. "Let's see, there were the times Sammy did something, you know being a normal kid, and to keep him from being beat on, I'd tell Dad it was my fault, those punishments I didn't mind because I was protecting my brother. Then there was the time I took him to the park while Dad slept and forgot to leave a note, that got the hell beat out of me and tied in a cage, left alone in the dark for 3 days."

He had quit paying attention to what he was saying and let his mouth run without keeping it in check. "I'm sure there were reasons for him tying me to the chairs that he screwed to the floor and beating me with his belt, but it's been so long ago I can't remember. I do remember though, after my mom died, I stopped talking, when he got tired of that, he beat me with his belt until I was covered in blood, he swore he wouldn't stop until I spoke, until I begged him to stop, which he stuck to his word, he didn't stop until I started screaming, begging him to stop."

He should have stopped now, but somehow he just couldn't seem to do that. "Then one time, Sammy ran away, I didn't think I was going to live through that beating, but, I did, not without first being tied back down and forced to take care of his needs. But, that wasn't usually a punishment, that was usually because he was lonely and needed some comfort and a release. Except for when Sammy left for college, that was different."

Clearly passed the line of no return, one he would regret. "He wanted to get drunk and the guys he met wanted a night to do whatever the hell they wanted with me, so it was a fair exchange, I got punished for letting my brother leave and Dad got happy again. Do I need to continue or is that enough… ma'am?" The irritation in his voice was unmistakable.

Dr. Willow didn't know what to say after that. "And, uh, that was only just a few times I'm going to assume?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Why… I'm not trying to blame you for anything that happened to you, but what made you feel the need to stay?"

"Because it's my family. You don't abandon your family. That's all I have."

"I'm sorry, Dean, I don't know how to… I don't know what to say."

"And here I thought you were the one who was supposed to be the professional."

"So, uh, you said your dad died? How?"

"Car wreck, he died after he got to the hospital, some internal injuries or something that they didn't catch till he was already gone."

"You said your brother walked out on you and your dad? To go to college? Don't you feel like that was abandonment? I mean, you said you don't walk out on family, you don't abandon them, but isn't that what your brother did?"

"It's complicated. He didn't walk out on us, I allowed him to go, I didn't try to stop him, I knew he wasn't happy and he needed to experience life for himself. Besides, we still talk, we see more of each other than what either of us care to admit, so no, he didn't abandon anyone."

"I see." Dr. Willow appeared to be lost in some of her own thoughts.

"Do you have a brother or sister?" Dean wasn't sure why he was asking, but enough years hunting had taught him to follow his gut.

"I did have a sister, yes."

"Did? What happened to her?"

"I'm not exactly sure."

"So, who abandoned who?"

She was shocked at his question. "Neither, really. But, I guess I'm the one who let her down, who walked away from her."

"Let me guess, she didn't fit in your little world? She didn't meet your expectations of the people you kept in your company? What? Was she a little crazy or something?"

"Yeah something like that." Dean was a little shocked by her answer. "She ended up here." She admitted. "I didn't want anyone knowing she was my sister and I made that very clear to her. She wasn't crazy or anything. She had been raped and suffered from some PTSD and depression as a result, but still, I didn't want anyone knowing, because, you know, how would that look if a therapist had a crazy sister, right?"

"What happened to her?"

"I'm not exactly sure. She was a problem patient. She didn't seem to do very well here. She got put into the padded room a lot and each time, well it was like she just got worse and worse."

"Did something happen to her while she was in those rooms?"

She looked up at Dean, a bit confused, like she had never thought of that. "I'm not sure, I never asked, I was too ashamed to get involved with her treatment."

"Did she die here?"

"How did you know?"

"Just a hunch."

"Yeah, the best they could figure is she got into a fight with someone, she was found in her room one morning, already gone."

"Let me guess, She had long blonde hair? Slept in a white nightgown? Evidence of maybe rape or some type of sexual assault, judging by the blood that was left pooled between her legs and on her gown, and severe injury to the left side of her face? Indicating the whole 'she got in a fight thing'?"

"Who are you?"

"Oh, and I bet she didn't exactly get along with that quack of a doctor that I had a run in with last night either, did she?"

Her eyes widened. "How did you know all of that?"

"Just a lucky guess."

"You've seen her?"

"Who? Me? Noooo, that would make me crazy, and I'm not crazy." Dean said with a smile and a wink.

"I've seen her too, I figured maybe I was the one who was going crazy." Dr. Willow softened her voice, shame filling her tone.

"You're not going crazy." Dean reassured her.

"You don't seem crazy either, so what are you really doing here?"

"If I answer that, sweetheart, you'll be putting me back on meds."

She laughed at that. "No. I won't, I promise."

"I'm here to help."

"Help? Help the people who have been killed here?"

"Yeah, something like that, what can you tell me about them?"

After gathering some intel on the deceased patients and the way their deaths had been covered up, there was a knock on the door, the doctor entered with the drug screen results in hand. After looking over it, she thanked him, keeping the paper with her, requested he say nothing to any of the other doctors, which he agreed to. As he went to leave she stopped him, asking him to close the door.

"Dean, this is my husband, I wanted you to know, you can trust him, he's not going to hurt you, or anyone else. In fact, we've been trying to get the evidence we need to get rid of the doctor you dealt with last night. The thing is, my husband has told me, himself, that he's seen my sister, or her spirit, or whatever you call it, in the treatment room, she looked like she did after she died."

Mr. Willow was shocked, she quickly explained a little of what was going on and he settled into a seat in her office, feeling more comfortable about the information she had just given Dean.

Dean nodded his head. "That's where she came to me at, while I was in there last night, but she disappeared when the doctor came back in, after she told me to 'get rid of him'. I'm not completely sure, but I think he was who she was talking about. It would definitely make sense after the treatment I received from him last night."

"So, what do we do now? What happens from here?"

"I still have a job to do. I have to figure out exactly what's going on. So, you keep me unmedicated and let my brother and I do our job."

"Your brother?"

"Yeah, I failed to mention he left college and came back to the life he tried so hard to escape, this is our job, this is what we do, we hunt things, the monsters no one believes in, we save people, it's kinda the family business."

Mr. Willow had left, he had patients he had to take care of, and knew his wife could handle this on her own. "Hey, Dean." She stopped him before he left. "That stuff you told me, is it true?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry, I know you're here for a completely different reason, but if you really wanna talk, you know where my office is."

Dean just nodded his head. "Thanks." As he started to walk out the door he turned and looked at her. "I'm sure I'll be back in here, we gotta keep up the appearances until we're done here."

He gave her a quick smile then turned and headed to his room. He waited until shift change, until his brother arrived. But, that also meant the doctors changed shifts too. Dean was dreading that, but knew he had to do what he needed to do. He had asked Dr. Willow to stay late, past shift change, so he could use her office to catch his brother up on things, in private. She agreed.

As they entered her office she recognized him immediately. She hadn't noticed until then, but he stayed near Dean, a lot. It seemed anywhere he was the crazy janitor was there too. Now she understood why. Dean and Dr. Willow filled him in on what he needed to know, he even gave his brother the crayon written note, he explained he wrote it in case he was drugged again and couldn't remember any of it. Everything went calm at first, until Dean started explaining to Sam the plan he had hatched.

"Are you crazy?" Sam silently yelled at Dean.

"Well I am HERE aren't I?"

"That's not funny!"

"It's a little funny."

"Dean, you can't do that! You'll be putting yourself in danger, it's bad enough that doctor is crazy, and possibly the one who killed this spirit that visited you, if not he for sure had something to do with it, and you're going to get yourself put in the padded room, by him?"

"That's the plan."

"I have to agree with Sam." Dr. Willow spoke up. "It doesn't sound very safe, what if he hurts you?"

Dean just gave a look and shrugged his shoulder.

"Dean." Sam was trying his best to explain why this was a bad idea. "Let's go over what we know, first, he injected crap into you, leaving you in a freezing, dark room, restrained to the bed the entire night. And let's not even mention your feelings on being tied to a bed! Then you find out her sister was put in the padded room, by the SAME doctor and every time she came out there was obviously something wrong, then she's found dead with obvious sexual assault, which could only lead me to think that while she was in the room she was being raped, or worse. Then there's the others, some of them males, who had similar experiences and were also found to be severely sexually assaulted when they were found dead. Do I need to spell this out for you? Do you realize what's going to happen to you if you get put in that room?"

Dean just rolled his eyes. "Then what do you suggest? How the hell do we get what we need? There could be others trapped in there, you don't know! Besides, in case you've forgotten, I can handle myself."

"Right! Because you're an expert at it, right? Because Dad decided you needed to be his personal mouth, or hand, or whatever. Because Dad decided you needed to keep all the jerk ass hunters around, so Dad didn't have to hunt alone, and how did you do that? Oh, that's right, by doing everything Dad commanded you to, by experiencing your first real sexual experience with a MAN, by fucking them, by allowing them to put their fingers inside you, by being their personal mouth too."

Sam suddenly seemed to release everything he had been holding in. "At least Dad had enough sense about him that he didn't stick his dick inside of you! But, it's not like that would have been much worse than what he was already doing to you! Not to mention the fact he actually TAUGHT you how to self-harm, not just self-harm, but sexually self-harm."

Dean stood there, allowing his brother to vent. "Then let's not forget the night I left, the experience you got there. Dad making you undress, tying you to the bed, and leaving you, like a piece of meat for who ever to do what ever they wanted to you. For your body to be torn in half by a room full of strangers. But, you learned how to deal with that, right? I mean, ignoring it is dealing, right?"

He was in Dean's face, daring him to disagree. "Then there was, what a year ago by now? That you decided you were going to have a night with those girls from the bar that ended in another incident where you were tied to a bed and handed over to a room full of guys. And, as if that wasn't enough for you when we went back, to save someone who ended up not existing, you more than threw yourself back at them, in the name of the case of course, but that's what you do isn't it?"

Sam grabbed fistfuls of Dean's shirt. "You throw yourself at the chance to get injured, to be hurt, to be abused, any chance you get, in the name of the job, to 'save people'. I swear, if I didn't know better, I'd think you really do enjoy it, then again, maybe I'm mistaking, maybe I don't know better?" Sam sounded more than angry by the time he stopped going off.

"You done?"

"Yeah, whatever, doesn't matter anyhow, you're gonna do whatever the hell you want anyhow."

"Okay, fine, I get it, okay? I really do, I won't do anything to put myself in the room, not on purpose anyhow, but I'm telling you, he already has it out for me, so… I just… I think I'm going to end up there anyhow. I don't think there's anyway to avoid what's going to happen, so I might as well just accept it, and… get it over with."

Dean had lowered his head. He knew his brother wouldn't understand. He didn't want to do it. He didn't want to subject himself to what he knew would happen, but he really was afraid, he was scared it would happen either way. He honestly thought that if he made it happen on his own he wouldn't be so scared. The tears that dripped from the bridge of his nose proved that to be wrong.

"Dean, let's just go. We can send someone else in here to finish this. I can't let you get hurt, not like that, not again." Sam softened his voice, he could feel his brother's heartbreak.

Dean shook his head no. "We've come this far, we're almost there, Sam. She's contacted me, and as far as I know, she hasn't contacted anyone else who's been here trying to stop it. I can't just leave, I can't walk out on her like that." Dean never looked up, he didn't want his brother to see the hurt and fear in his eyes.

Sam reached over, placing his hands against Dean's face, drying a tear that threatened to fall, raising his head to look at him. "Okay, if you feel that strong about it, then this is what we do…"

Dr. Willow was instructed to cover her ears, not to listen to their plan, after the brothers had agreed to a plan of action they instructed the Doctor to go home, they didn't want her involved, she didn't need to know their plan, didn't need to be a suspect.

The brothers left the office, going their separate ways and Dr. Willow went home, she had both a heavy heart and a huge relief. She knew it was going to be over, that no one else would be hurt after tonight, but she had a heaviness, afraid Dean wouldn't be so lucky.


	10. Chapter 10

CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD

SPIDERWEBS, DUST, AND COBWEBS

CHAPTER 10

 **THIS CHAPTER IS GRAFFIC! IF YOU HAVE ANY ISSUES WITH READING GRAFFIC TORTURE AND RAPE THEN SKIP THIS CHAPTER, SERIOUSLY! SKIP IT! SPOILER FOR THOSE WHO WANT TO SKIP IT: SAM AND DEAN'S PLAN TO GET RID OF THE EVIL DOCTOR DIDN'T GO AS PLANNED, DEAN ENDED UP BEING TORTURED AND BRUTALLY RAPED BEFORE HE WAS ABLE TO RID THE FACILITY OF THE EVILNESS THE DOCTOR BROUGHT UPON ITS PATIENTS. DEAN EXPERIENCED JUST HOW BAD THE TORTURE THE PATIENTS ENDURED BEFORE THEY DIED IN THE HANDS OF THE DOCTOR.**

Dean walked out with the utmost confidence. They had a plan and he was sure it would work, that after tonight, all the spirits who were murdered would be able to rest. He didn't like the idea of killing a human, but sometimes, the humans are more of a monster than the monsters themselves.

Over the years of hunting, Dean had come to learn that the line he once thought was black and white, has become grayed. Not all monsters are bad, and not all people are good. This particular case, it seemed the spirits weren't evil like they once thought. The eye witnesses were only scared of them, because of their appearance.

But, as Dean had found out, they were only trying to warn the others, trying to stop the one who had killed them. Dean had told Dr. Willow's sister's spirit he was there to help, and he fully intended on keeping his word, no matter what happened in the process. First, he needed to get put in the padded room with the evil doctor.

It was shift change, which meant the doctor would be back for the evening, this was his chance, he had to take it while he could, he couldn't allow anyone else to suffer. He purposely walked past the treatment room, glaring in at the doctor with evil eyes.

"Mr. Winchester."

Dean paused, turning to look at him, not speaking, instead giving him a 'what the hell do you want' look.

"I need to see you, please."

"What the hell for?" He questioned as he walked toward the treatment room. "So, you can tie me back up?" He continued, trying to piss him off on purpose.

"I'd suggest you lose that tone of voice with me."

"Or what?" Dean's body language said he was ready for anything, even if it meant violence.

"I see you haven't lost your violent temper."

"I don't have a damn violent temper. I just don't care much for you."

"Well, I'm not going to allow you to threaten me again. I'm afraid you're going to be a danger to the others around you."

"The only person I'm going to be a danger to is you, when I rip your heart out."

He knew that got him exactly where he wanted him. The doctor had pushed him against a wall, his arm against Dean's throat, cutting off any chance of air.

"We'll see about that." He stated as Dean felt a sharp poke in his arm.

Glancing his eyes down toward where the pain came from, he saw the doctor removing a syringe that he had used to inject something into Dean. Once he was finished he released his hold.

"What the hell man?" Dean spat out as he rubbed his arm. "What did you just give me?"

"Something to calm you down." The doctor stated with an evil grin. "Now, you're going to the room. I wouldn't suggest you make this any harder than you already have. Let's go." He grabbed Dean by the arm and started leading him out of the room.

Dean had taken a couple steps and noticed his head started feeling funny. Not really light headed or dizzy, more of just a foggy sensation. He was losing his ability to control his mind, or at least the part of it that controlled his body. The more he walked, the more he tripped and stumbled. The doctor kept a tight grip on Dean's arm, holding him up.

They stopped and the doctor opened a door. Behind the door was a set of steps, looked like about six steps from what Dean could see through the blurriness. He wasn't sure how much longer he was going to be able to will his muscles to keep him standing. Then he felt the doctor's hand on his back, giving him a hard push.

Dean couldn't even control his body enough to attempt to protect himself as he tumbled down the stairs. He landed on the ground with a thud and a slight groan of pain. He didn't seem to be able to get the sounds to come out of the throat. The doctor had stepped through the door, closing it behind him and locking it. He then descended down the stairs to where Dean laid.

"Looks like the medication is working."

He laughed as he grabbed Dean's hands, taking a rope that seemed to be sitting right where it was needed, he pulled Dean's hands above his head, tying them together and dragging him into the padded room. Dean found himself unable to move. The doctor moved a piece of padding out of the way, exposing a hook stuck in the wall. He attached the rope that bound Dean's hands to the hook.

"This is the way it's going to work." The doctor spoke, standing over Dean's motionless body. "You're all mine, tonight. If you're good, I'll let you go back upstairs tomorrow. Don't worry, next time, you won't feel the need to fight as much, you'll be much more accepting."

Next time? Next time? Dean ran those words through his head, in a way he was grateful, that meant he had no intention of killing Dean, not tonight anyhow. But damn it! He had a plan, and this was not the way it was supposed to go, he wasn't supposed to be injected with some type of paralytics, keeping his body from being able to preform the way it needs to.

The doctor sat on Dean's stomach, making sure his entire body weight was pressing on him. He wasn't about to make this any less miserable than he needed to. He had reached up, pulling Dean's t-shirt and hoodie over his head and down his arms, leaving it crumbled at his bound wrists. Dean couldn't help but feel the fear rising in him. He didn't like this, not one bit.

He could see the evil in the doctor's eyes. He knew what the others had suffered before their untimely deaths, he knew they had been sent to this room on more than one occasion before taking their last breaths, but he also knew how badly they were injured before coming to that.

Sam knew the plan, he knew he was going to get the doctor to bring him down here. Dr. Willow had explained to them where the room was, and that it was no longer supposed to be used. The only problem was, Dean was supposed to deal with him once they were down there. But, thankfully, they always had a backup plan. Sam was to rescue him within a certain amount of time, just in case he was unable to escape after finishing his job, or worse, wasn't able to finish his job.

"I've read your files." The doctor continued. "I've seen the notes that damn therapist wrote, I know about your daddy, and being used to keep everyone happy. I'm guessing you were good at it? Is that why your daddy kept using you? Did you make him happy? Were you a good little fuck?"

Dean was getting angry. He could feel his blood boiling, his mind was fuming, but due to the damn medicine, he wasn't able to physically react to what the doctor was saying. 'No no no, it wasn't supposed to be this way, it wasn't supposed to come to this' Dean thought to himself, desperately trying to figure out a way to make his body work, trying to figure out how to carry out his plan.

"Go to hell!" Dean was barely able to squeak out after putting in way too much effort to create those three words.

The doctor just laughed. He reached down and unbuckled Dean's pants. He grabbed a hold of his waistband, slowly pulling both his pants and boxers down his legs at the same time.

Dean could feel his body trying to get sick. He could feel the bile rising in his throat, but there was nothing he could do, he couldn't even find the muscle control to swallow it back down. The sour liquid, sitting in his mouth, only made him want to vomit more. He noticed, due to lack of any muscle control, the liquid poured out the side of his mouth like drool.

"How many times has that sweet ass been had?"

The doctor was unstoppable. He was determined to break Dean's mind. Determined to make him go crazy. Dean was not going to allow that to happen. The doctor may have been trying to get inside his head, but Dean was working overtime keeping him out of there.

He was trying too hard to figure out how to carry out his plan, how to stop the monster that now had him reliving his worst nightmare. He was tied, with damn ropes, again, with the threat of being raped, or at the very least sexually assaulted, not that one was worse than the other in Dean's mind.

He noticed, the longer the doctor talked, the more feeling came back into his body. He remained still, not letting the doctor know he was regaining some muscle control, or at least he thought he was, since feeling was tingling back into his body. He could think a little clearer now too, and was more aware of his immediate surroundings.

"Get the hell off me!" Dean croaked out, still not completely in control of his vocal cords or the muscles that controlled it.

"Oh, but, we've just begun. By the way. Your voice is the first thing to come back." The doctor smiled. "But, you can yell all you want, no one can hear you down here, and those silly cameras, they don't work anymore, so it's just you and me. And by the time your muscle control returns, you're gonna wish it hadn't. Not that you're going to be able to use them anyhow, not after I'm done with you. But don't worry, like I said, next time will be better."

"You son of a bitch!"

"Now, now… with that attitude, I say we go ahead and get started." The doctor opened the door, pulling in a medal table full of different items.

"What the hell?"

"Oh, don't worry, you'll find out what all of these are soon enough."

The doctor picked up a long bar that had straps on both ends. "This," he said as he made his way to Dean's feet, attaching the first foot in the strap. "Is to keep you from kicking away, or trying to kick me. It'll also keep your legs separated, and the farther I want them apart, the longer I can pull the bar."

He then attached his second foot to the other strap, demonstrating what he was saying, as he pulled the bar longer, causing Dean's legs to pull apart, pulling at the muscles and tendons in his groan and hips, pulling everything in his thighs as tight as they would go. Dean couldn't help but cry out in pain once he had lengthened the bar so far.

With a chuckle the doctor stopped. "Looks like that's far enough, for now."

'Damn it!' Dean thought to himself. He wasn't expecting this. He wasn't expecting to be tortured, not like this. It was already reminding him of his time in hell. He didn't think he had ever wanted Sam as bad as he did right now.

Just the one act was enough to cause panic to rise to the surface. He didn't want to do this anymore. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to find out what else the doctor had planned. Where the hell was Sam? He was sure his window of opportunity had closed, he was sure it had already been enough time that Sam should have come to rescue him.

"You know." The doctor began speaking again. "I really like my male patients the best, there's so many more, fun, things I can do with them. Things they've never experienced, pain they never thought imaginable."

"You'd be surprised." Dean hissed out, causing the doctor to chuckle again.

He approached Dean with a small metal rod in his hands, it looked like it had some type of balls attached to it, leaving only a smooth surface between them. He grabbed Dean's penis, holding it tight in his hand, studying it closely. Dean could feel the bile rising in his mouth again as he let it run from his lips onto the floor beside his head.

"This is only going to hurt… a lot!" The doctor chuckled as he forced the rod into the head of Dean's penis, not even bothering to add any lubricant as he drove it in.

Dean screamed out, each ball that was attached stretched him bigger and bigger. Sure, it wasn't like it was super large, probably not even as big around as a finger, but damn it if it didn't hurt like a son of a bitch!

He was sure there was no way it wasn't leaving him torn and bleeding. He didn't have the heart to even look at what he had just done. It hurt bad enough he didn't want to see it, he didn't want to see the damage or how much blood it was leaving in its path.

The doctor left it inserted inside of him once he was satisfied that it was all the way in. Dean couldn't help but continue to moan in pain and discomfort. The fear and anxiety he was feeling earlier, it just tripled. He wasn't sure if he could do this. He just wanted it to be over. He wanted to ice this son of a bitch and get as far away as he could.

He heard what sounded like chains clinking together and couldn't help but open his eyes back up to see what torture item was next. He couldn't do much more than grit his teeth, close his eyes as tight as he could, and release the screams of pain.

The doctor had taken his next device and placed it around Dean's testicles, tightening the vices until Dean felt like it was going to make them explode. They also had spikes lining the inside of the vices, that dug into his tender skin a little further each time the doctor tightened them.

'Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god' was all Dean could get to go through his brain, it was stuck on repeat. He never imagined this kind of torture. His mind became cloudy as the doctor took a whip and started swinging it with more force than Dean realized he possessed, striking him between his legs and on the inside of his thighs.

After he was satisfied that he had injured that area enough with the whip, he moved it across other parts of his body, leaving Dean unable to even scream. Now, not only was he unable to move, unable to fight or defend himself, but he was unable to express the pain he was in too.

His breathes were coming in short pants, unable to even take a deep breath, unable to fully fill his lungs. He felt like he was suffocating. His lungs were burning from the lack of oxygen filling them. His throat felt raw and dry from screaming.

Weakness, that's all he could feel was an overwhelming weakness. Despite the pain he was in, his body just wanted to close its eyes and fall into the darkness of sleep. At some point, that Dean was unaware of until it was finished, he had placed what Dean considered claws, on each of his nipples, they weren't exactly clamps since they dug through his skin, leaving each side of the claws sticking out of the opposite side where they started.

"We aren't finished yet!" The doctor informed him, giving him a hard slap across the face, forcing him to stay awake. "We haven't even gotten to the good part yet."

Dean wasn't sure how long he had been there, he wasn't sure where Sam was, why he hadn't saved him yet, he wasn't even sure what was happening, not until he felt the pain from the torture, he was no longer aware of exactly what was causing the pain, or where, he only knew it hurt, and it hurt a lot more than he thought he was able to handle.

He hadn't realized, until he pulled against the ropes tying his hands, that he had regained control of his body. It wasn't going to be easy, that much he knew, but he had to clear his head, no matter what was being done to his body, he needed to remember his plan, he needed to finish this.

The doctor pulled the bar on his feet further apart, causing Dean to scream out in pain again, he felt like his hips were being separated from his body, like his legs were being torn off. The doctor then grabbed the bar, using it to lift Dean's legs into the air, bending them at his knees, resting his knees against his chest.

"No, please." Dean pleaded, he knew what was coming next. He knew he couldn't stop it, but he had to at least say something, he had to try, even if he knew it was hopeless. The doctor unbuckled his own pants, allowing himself to fall freely. Dean noticed he was already hard. This torture had turned him on, and now he was ready to finish it.

Before the doctor started his final act, he placed a large dildo inside of Dean, again, he decided any type of lubricant wasn't needed. It was almost more than Dean could handle, again, causing him to hoarsely scream out in pain.

"Get used to it princess." The doctor laughed. "It's just going to get worse once I join it inside your body, feeling it rub against my own dick."

Dean was sure his stomach was going to empty any remaining contents, he knew the doctor was screwed up in the head, but now, he was right down sickening. Still, Dean had to ignore him. He had a job to finish.

The doctor forced himself inside of Dean, causing him to tear like never before, causing a pain like he had never felt, not even his dreams could make it be this bad. His body shook, he couldn't stop it. A radiating pain that felt hot, like he was on fire, radiated up his spine, and filled his entire body.

His screams only stopped because his throat was so sore and dry. His mind was spinning, making it hard to think, making it hard to even know what was happening. Pain, that's all he could think about was pain. That's the only thing his brain could register.

He allowed his subconscious instincts to take over. He knew he had to finish what he started, but couldn't get his brain to function any longer, so he let his hunter's instinct lead the way. Before he had realized it, he was able to work the knife out of the hidden compartment in his hoodie.

He was thankful from the beginning that his hoodie was crumbled up over his hands, making it easier for him to have access to the weapon he had hidden. He worked the knife through the loop in the ropes, releasing his hands from the wall. They were still tied together, but that didn't matter, not as long as he was able to get his arms to move.

In one quick movement, he cut his hands free, pulling his arms over his head, the knife in hand and ready for action, and dropped his arms over the doctor's back, stabbing the knife deep into his spine. He was too involved in enjoying the pain he was causing to even notice Dean had freed himself.

Again, Dean pulled his arms up, following with another stab to his back, he continued this motion until he no longer felt movement coming from the doctor, he no longer felt any signs of life. He wasn't sure how many times he had stabbed him, didn't matter, he would have kept stabbing him if it wasn't for the fact his arms had gotten so tired and his body was giving out on him. He collapsed his arms down, stabbing the knife into the doctor's back one last time and leaving his hands wrapped around it, just incase it was needed again.

Nothing changed, the pain was still there. He couldn't make it stop, he couldn't make it go away. He was too exhausted, too weak to even try. He couldn't even manage to push he dead weight of the doctor off him. He closed his eyes, trying to block out as much pain as he could. Until, the pain over took his will to fight and he drifted into much accepted unconsciousness.

He wasn't sure when or how, but he felt a familiar hand shaking his shoulder, followed by the voice he could recognize anywhere, calling his name. He fought to crack his eyes opened and was never so thankful to see his brother kneeling beside him, his body bent over Dean's, waking him from his unconsciousness. He heard another familiar voice. Dr. Willow, she was on her phone, talking to someone.

"Dean, I'm so sorry, oh my god, I'm sorry." Sam started, a bit of panic in his voice.

"Sss…ssammy." Dean was barely able to make out his brother's name.

"It's okay man, just hang in there okay? It's going to be okay. We've got help on the way."

"Wwhat tttoook you sso longgg?" Dean mumbled out between gasps of air.

"I couldn't get into the door, it was locked, I had to call Dr. Willow to come help me. Then it took us a little while to figure out he had brought you to the room that is no longer used. But, we're here now, so just hang in there, okay?"

"Hurts."

"Yeah, yeah, I know it does. We don't wanna move you though, okay?"

Dean shook his head, trying to disagree with Sam. "Ttttake 'ttt outtt." Dean pleaded as he felt his body begin to lose it's fight against the darkness.

"Dean, Willow thinks it's best if we don't, we don't know what kind of bleeding, or internal injuries is being held back. I know it hurts, but it'll all be over soon, I promise."

Dean had noticed, at least they removed the body that had collapsed on top of him, but it didn't make the pain go away. "Hhhhurts, m'k it stop." Dean mumbled out, pleading with his brother to just make the pain go away, to at least ease it.

Sam, desperate to make his brother as comfortable as he could, looked up at Dr. Willow with pleading eyes.

"Okay." She said. "Carefully, we can help make him a little more comfortable. Start by removing those things." She pointed to the claw clamps on Dean's nipples.

Dean hissed in pain as Sam removed them, tearing the rips in his skin a little more, they were designed that way. It almost made Sam sick to think about it. The only purpose they served was for pure torture, and when you thought the torture was over, it just added more when they were removed. He shuttered to think of what was in store for Dean once they started removing other objects.

Dr. Willow had her phone out, she was taking pictures of the objects before Sam removed them, she knew they would be needed for evidence, to help Dean's self defense claim, all though she knew it wouldn't matter, judging by his injuries, even without the pictures, it would be easy to see that's what it was.

"Dean, this is probably gonna hurt like a bitch." Sam said as he placed one hand around Dean's penis, the other gripping the rod that was inserted inside. "You ready?"

Dean nodded, bracing himself for the pain, but, Sam had no idea about the balls that were attached to it, or the unbearable pain it would cause coming out. Sure, Sam figured there was going to be something to cause him more pain, but he wasn't prepared for this.

Dean grasped his brother's wrists, a weak attempt to get him to stop, but Sam knew he had to finish what he had started. His heart sunk when he realized the balls were smooth going in, but jagged coming out. They were tearing at his insides as he pulled each one further out of his brother.

Dean found himself teetering on the edge of darkness, he couldn't catch his breath enough to be able to scream out in pain. He felt like he had lost control of his body again, as his hands fell limp from his brother's wrists. One last fast pull and the rod was out of Dean, leaving behind a steady stream of blood and pieces of his insides shredded against the jagged edges of the object he had just removed.

They had shortened the bar between his legs, taking the majority of the pressure off his hips and groin area, but Willow insisted they leave it in place. She had stated that the way his brother's legs looked, there was probably damage to his pelvic area and they needed to be careful not to injure him more, she said something about stuff being torn or pulled. Sam really was only half listening. He was too busy trying to keep his brother awake, or at least conscious, even if he wasn't fully alert.

Sam didn't think he would ever feel such a relief as he did the moment the medics showed up. The gasps from them, told Sam his instincts were right, that his brother was in serious trouble. It didn't take them long to have him loaded on their stretcher and headed for the ambulance.

Sam was hot on their tail before he was stopped by a police officer. He was told what he already knew, his brother was going to need to be examined, and probably have some type of surgical procedure, then be settled into whatever room he would be staying in, before Sam would be able to see him. So, the officer suggested he take this time to answer their questions. Sam agreed, knowing it would help calm him down, and he was in no shape to drive anyhow. If he let his emotions get the best of him, and wrecked Dean's baby, on top of everything else, Dean would be more than just a little pissed.

With a loud sigh, Sam slumped against a wall, allowing his body to slide down until he was seated on the floor, his knees pulled to his chest. He had leaned his head back so it was resting on the wall behind him. He answered their questions the best he could.

Dr. Willow was right by his side, trying to give him comfort and told them she needed to be there for his therapy needs. Honestly, she was scared, and she knew that no matter what, Sam would protect her, keep her safe from the unknown. She also found a comfort in him. She needed him, at this moment, more than he needed her, but she couldn't tell the officers that.

She had told the officers that she left something in her office and when she came back to get it, Sam had told her he thought someone was in danger, that he saw them go into the basement, so she unlocked the door and went with him to investigate. She was clearly shaken. She never expected to see what they found. It left her wondering if her sister went through similar torture before her death. And her heart sunk with regret.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, of officers said they were done with the questions for now, that they would be in touch later, and would come to the hospital to speak with Dean, once he was awake and stable. Sam agreed, thanking them and quickly made his way out of the building, Willow sticking close to his side, they both slid in the impala and made their way to the hospital.


	11. Chapter 11

CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD

SPIDERWEBS, DUST, AND COBWEBS

CHAPTER 11

Sam was a bit irritated once he had arrived at the hospital, he thought it had been long enough, but he still wasn't able to see his brother. They said he was still in surgery but someone would be out shortly to give him an update. He was thankful Willow was there, at least she helped him keep his anger in check. How could this have happened? How could it have been so bad?

He shuttered at the thought of his brother enduring the torture at the hands of the doctor. His mind, quickly slipping away from the current situation, going back to his brother's life. He sat, slumped in the chair in the waiting room. He'd been here before. Not in this exact waiting room, but he's been on this end of his brother's injuries more times than he wants to remember.

He started remembering the things they had talked about over the past couple of years, the confessions Dean had made to him. He thought about how hateful Sam would be to his brother, how when he got angry he'd bring up the past, using it against him, try to hurt him all over again, with his words. He was reminded of the fact he had just done that earlier in the day, when they were in Willow's office.

He used the things his brother confessed against him. He hurt him with his words, accusing him of liking it, of liking the pain and sex. Now, here he was, in the waiting room, while his brother was in surgery, for god only knows what, but it was caused by the exact same pain he had accused his brother of enjoying.

When did he stand from his seat? When did he start pacing the room? And when did his fist decide to meet the wall? He didn't remember any of it. Willow had placed a gentle hand on Sam's shoulder, calming his anger and getting him to sit back down. He rested his elbows on his knees, placing his face in his hands.

"I don't get it, I just don't get it!" He mumbled from his hands.

"What don't you get?" Willow asked with a calming tone.

"Why does this have to happen? Why does this keep happening? Dean is the best person you'll ever meet." He raised he head from his hands, wiping the tears that had dripped down as he pulled his face from his hands. "He's the strongest person I know, has a heart of gold, hell, he puts up with me, that alone should be enough to drive anyone crazy. He doesn't deserve this! It's not fair!"

"Sometimes, life isn't fair, and the good ones get dealt a bad hand. But, also, I think sometimes the good ones get dealt that bad hand because they are strong enough to handle it. They have the strength to play the hand they are dealt, when others would just fold."

Sam gave her a slight smile at the poker references she had made. "Yeah, and people, like Dean, have perfected the poker face, keeping the world from seeing what a crappy hand they were dealt. Still doesn't make it fair."

"Well, no one said anything in life was fair, and if you think it is, then you're living in a dream world. In the real world, the crappier your hand is, the stronger you have to be at perfecting that poker face. And Dean, he uses some pretty tough glue to keep that mask on."

"Yeah, yeah he does. He always has." Sam sat for a moment letting thoughts run through his head. "I never knew. I mean, the older I got the more I figured out, and the harder it was to keep things hidden. But, I never really knew. I would see bruises here and there, sometimes he would have a crazy excuse. I don't know if I actually believed it, or just chose to believe it, because it was easier that way. But, sometimes he didn't have an excuse and would just ignore my concerns."

He wasn't sure why he had started speaking any and all words that came to his mind, but he did. "Then there were the times Dad's anger was more than obvious, and him and Dean would go into another room to 'talk' or they would leave for a while. I wasn't stupid, I knew something was going on. I had heard Dean crying sometimes while Dad beat on him. But, honestly, I didn't think things were as bad as they were. I thought maybe he just slapped him around, or threw a couple punches, nothing like what Dean had admitted to me a couple years ago."

Sam looked guilty, like he should have known, like he had just chosen to ignore the obvious, but then again, Dean had chosen to keep it hidden, to feed him excuse after excuse. Plus, he had told Sam he truly believed he deserved it. He believed he deserved the punishments and the harsh training.

Sam was pulled from his thoughts when a doctor stood in front of him.

"Mr. Rogers?"

"Yes, sir."

"Come with me please." He requested, Sam and Willow followed him into a small room that held nothing but a few chairs, a consultation room. "Your brother is out of surgery."

"How is he?"

"It's going to take some time for him to fully recover from his injuries, but, he's stable. He had some pretty extensive sexual injuries that required some corrective surgery and some repair to stop bleeding. He's going to have a pelvic brace on for a while. His muscles, tendons, and ligaments in his groin were torn and stretched, he's going to have to let them heal before he'll be able to walk properly."

Sam couldn't help but wonder how his brother was going to take the news that he wouldn't be allowed to move for a while. "We had to go in and repair some of them that were severely torn due to the internal bleeding they were causing and because they were completely detached, so repairing them, was the only way to be sure they would heal."

Dean was going to have a hard time allowing anything to properly heal, Sam already knew that. "Most of his lacerations are superficial. Only a couple required stitches, a couple we put some butterfly bandages on, the rest will be just fine and should heal without much scaring. The important thing is to make sure they stay clean to keep out any infection."

That would mean, if Dean did manage to escape the hospital, they wouldn't be staying anywhere dirty for a while. "He has some pretty significant injuries to his wrists. His right wrist, has a lot of skin tears, some places are pretty deep, with significant amount of bleeding, we bandaged it the best we could. His left wrist, it was dislocated and severely sprained. We have it in a brace, it's kinda like a soft cast, to minimize the usage of it to allow it to heal properly. It also has significant skin tears that have been bandaged and the bleeding is controlled."

Ropes. Sam couldn't help but remember how much Dean hated ropes. "He has 4 broken ribs that should heal without a problem, none of them seem to be misplaced. He had some hard blows to his body, some internal bruising and swelling that will possibly worsen before it gets better, but shouldn't cause any complications."

The doctor paused, that was a lot for the people in front of him to take in. He knew it sounded bad, but in all honesty, it was worse than it sounded. He let that information sink in for a minute before he continued. "We have him on some IV fluids, including an IV antibiotic to help with any looming infections, also, due to the significant amount of blood loss, we have a unit of blood being put back into him as well."

Again, the doctor paused, allowing the information to sink in. "Due to the pain he's in we have him on some heavy duty pain meds, they will keep him pretty well sedated, he'll wake for short period of times, and that's fine if he does, but he needs to be allowed to rest when needed. He's gong to be very weak for a while, at least until his body can recuperate from the blood loss. I'd imagine he'll start getting some strength back once his blood is replenished and he can come off some of the more sedative meds."

Sam nodded, understanding, but realizing the doctor had only stopped talking so he could take another pause, the expression on the doctor's face had changed to one of much more concern. "I just wanted to point out the fact that, if my information is correct, this was caused by another doctor, is that right?"

Sam and Willow both nodded their heads, confirming he was informed correctly.

The doctor let out a sigh. "I'm going to be honest, I'm mostly concerned about his mental wellbeing. His physical injuries are pretty serious, yes, but I have no doubt that they will heal just fine. But, I am concerned with the fact that he is in a hospital, surrounded by doctors, and that might cause him some emotional distress. I'm going to try to keep the staff interference to a minimum, but they still have a job to do. I'm requiring that all nurses or care takers are females, due to the fact the doctor who did this to him was male."

Sam nodded, his way of agreeing with what the doctor was saying and also thanking him for understanding.

"But, he's still going to have a lot more emotional scars than he will have physical ones. This isn't going to be an easy road for him. He went through some pretty nasty torture. The problem with torture is, once it's over, it's not really over. Torture, tortures your mind much worse than it does your body."

Sam and Willow, again, nodded their heads, understanding and agreeing. "He'll be fine." Sam spoke up. "He has me, I'll make sure he's okay."

The doctor nodded. "I think that's enough information for you to take in for now, how about we go see your brother?"

Sam was more than happy to hear him suggest that. He was beyond anxious to see Dean. He was a little frightened, he wasn't sure what condition he was going to be in, but he figured it couldn't be any worse than the last time he saw him.

They quietly walked into the room. Dean was laying on his back, the blankets pulled up to his chest and folded over at the edge. His arms were laying straight beside him, flowing with the length of his body. His right wrist had white bandages wrapped around it and his left arm had what did look like a cast that covered his hand and went almost all the way to his elbow.

He had oxygen flowing through the tube going into his nose. There were wires coming out from under the covers, attached to the machine monitoring his heartbeat. The blood pressure cuff was attached to his arm and the pulse ox was placed on his finger, making sure he was getting enough oxygen into his body. His breathes were shallow and short, the doctor had explained the weird breathing was from the pain he experienced when taking deep breathes and the oxygen was to help make sure he was getting enough into his body through the shallow breathes.

His brother looked pale. His face was flush and his hair looked like he had been sweating. He had some bruising to his face, the pale color of his skin radiated the bruise, making it look a lot worse than Sam was sure it was. His eyes were gently closed, in a blissful sleep, he didn't hold any expression in his face. Sam figured the medication had him pain free, at least for the moment.

He had 2 IVs, one in his right elbow and one in his left bicep. They were as the doctor described, one had fluids and antibiotics, along with a bag of pain meds that kept him at a constant comfort level, the other had blood running through the tubing that entered his brother's body.

Sam glanced over Dean's body, noticing the way his legs were being held apart, he was sure it was both for comfort and due to the pelvic brace, the doctor had spoke about. He pulled up the nearby chair and as he sat in it he wondered what kind of mental discomfort that would cause his brother when he woke.

His legs were already forced apart long enough, causing excruciating pain, he wasn't sure if this brace would trigger that memory or not, didn't really matter, Sam figured, he'd be right there to comfort his brother if it did.

Sam hadn't even realized his body was trembling. Willow had pulled a second chair up, sitting it beside Sam's. He had moved himself as close to Dean's bed as he could. Willow placed a gentle hand over Sam's, causing him to startle a little, but quickly relaxed, realizing she was only steadying his hands.

"Sam." She spoke with the softest of voices. "I know this is hard, I couldn't even imagine what you're going through right now. Hell, I know what I'm feeling, and he's not even my brother. But, when he wakes, you need to hold yourself together. You hear me?"

Sam nodded his head, not wanting to look away from Dean.

"He's going to be going through a lot too, and as we discussed, he's damn good at hiding it! This…" she said running her hand down the length of Dean's body. "Is bad enough for anyone to deal with, but he has a past too. One thing you need to understand, no matter what he may tell you, you can't have a traumatic experience without your past experiences creeping in and effecting you in some way. Sure, it may affect some more than others, but I guarantee you, his past experiences will affect him in one way or another. You have to be the strong one right now."

She paused, Sam had tears dripping down his cheeks, falling to the floor. He had wrapped his fingers into Dean's, his head lowered.

"Sam, it's okay to feel your own emotions, don't let any of this keep you from doing that. And, it's okay that Dean sees that you have emotions, it will help him feel more comfortable expressing his own, but you need to keep them together. When he's asleep, or if you leave his room, you are free to yell, scream, punch something, breakdown if you have to, but as long as he's awake, watching you, it's important you hold yourself together. Understand?"

Sam nodded his head. He knew this was going to be hard on Dean, but it was also going to be one of the hardest things he's ever had to do.

"You know." Sam started to speak, he was really talking to Willow, but didn't look at her and just spoke into the air. "It's hard enough just knowing. It's one thing when you listen to the stories years after they happened, when you see the end result and know he's okay. It's even different when you hear about it right after it happened."

He moved his head to look at Willow. "I even killed the last guy, while he was holding Dean down, raping him. But it wasn't really brutal, and we were in the middle of a hunt and adrenaline was pumping. By the time we were finished and back to the motel, it was like it was a memory, it took us a couple days to talk about it, and by then, it was just another story."

Sam looked back at Dean. "But, to see what I saw. To see the way my brother suffered, to witness it first hand like I… we… did. I don't know. I don't know if I can handle holding myself together. I just want to scoop him up in my arms, tell him everything is going to be alright, then hide him away from the world so no one can hurt him, ever again."

"You know you can't do that."

"Yeah, I know, but it's what I wish I could do. I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to be there for him right now, not without falling apart. That's all I want to do right now. I'm barely holding it together."

"For starters, you walk out if you need to."

Sam shook his head. "NO, I need to be here, I don't want to leave him. I need to be here when he wakes up."

Willow just nodded her head. "Then, you do what you're doing right now, you talk to me, or to the air, or the wall, or whatever or whoever you can talk to. You tell them what you are feeling, you release your fears into the atmosphere, so when your brother needs you, you'll be able to be there, because you've released what you've needed to. You've cleared your thoughts and opened them up, making room for your brother."

Sam just nodded. Tears still in his eyes. "Thanks." He said, turning his head toward Willow, giving her a crooked, half smile, before turning back to his brother. "He'll be okay, right?"

"Are you kidding me? He has the best little brother in the world, who happens to be a pretty good support system, it might take some time, but he'll be just fine! I'm sure of it."

Willow handed Sam her number, in case he needed her for anything further, and headed home, knowing there was nothing more she could do at the moment. Sam had rested his head on the side of Dean's bed, leaving his fingers tangled with Dean's.

"Sss'mmy." Dean was barely able to get his brother's name loud enough for Sam to hear. It was his third attempt to speak and was pleased that he was finally able to get any sound to come out of his dry, cracked throat.

"Dean!"

Sam was startled to hear his brother awake. He looked up, seeing his brother staring back at him. His normally bright green eyes were clouded and blank. He was still coming back around to the land of the living. Sam had tried to pull his hand away from Dean's but Dean tightened his grip on Sam's fingers, not that he couldn't pull away if he wanted to. Dean didn't have enough strength to hold Sam's hand still, but Sam took it as a sign and kept his fingers still.

"Hey Dean, how…uh…how you feeling?"

Dean swallowed hard, trying to get sound to come back out again. "Like crap." He was able to croak out. He tried to reach his hand up, to comfort his throat but didn't have the energy to move more than a few inches.

"Ice chips." Sam said it like he just had a revolution. "Here, Dean!" Sam said as he stood, grabbing the small cup sitting on the table beside his bed, the one that was filled with small ice cubes and a spoon, he scooped some ice into the spoon, holding it in front of Dean's mouth. "Here, this will help."

Dean opened his mouth slightly and accepted the ice, feeling relieved at the cooling, wet sensation that coated his throat.

"Want more?"

Dean nodded his head and gladly accepted a couple more spoonful of ice. Resting his head back on the pillow, no longer able to keep his eyes opened or hold his head up. His strength had been diminished.

Dean laid with his eyes closed. "Sammy, you okay?"

"Uh, yeah Dean, I'm fine. I'm not the one laying in the hospital bed."

"Yeah… about that…"

"Dean." Sam's voice warned. "You're not going anywhere, don't even think it!"

Dean just gave Sam a half smile. "I'm tired." He mumbled.

"Then sleep, Dean. You need your rest."

Dean gave a slight nod. "Stay?"

"Yeah, Dean, I'm going to stay, you don't have to worry about that, no one's going to hurt you. I'm not going anywhere."

Dean nodded again, allowing himself to slip back into unconsciousness.

Sam fell asleep again too. He was thankful that the doctor was keeping the nurses to a minimum. He was able to actually get some decent rest while Dean slept. When the nurse came in, for a required check on the patient, she managed to wake Sam. When he sat up, he noticed Dean was stirring too. He placed a comforting hand on Dean's arm, letting him know that he was still there with him.

"The blood is finished." The nurse stated as she started to disconnect the tubing. Dean had opened his eyes, watching the nurse move around about him. "We're going to leave the IV in place, for now, just in case it's needed later."

She spoke as she moved to the other side, changing out an almost empty saline bag and leaving a new, full one in it's place. She also removed the antibiotic, saying something about it being finished for now as well. Sam had given his brother some more ice chips. And the nurse asked about his pain. Dean wasn't really able to answer.

"j'st d'nt move." Dean mumbled.

Sam gave a slight chuckle. "Yeah, Dean, don't move, it won't hurt as bad."

Dean nodded in response. Once the nurse had left, Sam could see Dean's body relax, he hadn't noticed his brother tense up, but couldn't miss the relief when the medical personal left.

"Dean, no one is going to hurt you, I'm not gonna leave you." Sam tried to reassure him.

Dean attempted to shift his body, being stopped by both, the pain and the pelvic brace. "This sucks!" Dean mumbled as the obvious expression of pain filled his face followed by a groan.

"Dean?"

"I'm fine, Sammy. Just hurts, that's all."

"Do you need something for pain?"

Dean shook his head. "No more meds." He croaked out, followed by a dry cough that just made his throat hurt even worse.

Sam quickly gave him some more ice to help sooth the discomfort. Dean tried to move again, but didn't have much luck.

"What the hell?" He complained, not being able to move his legs the way he wanted.

"Dean, you need to stay still, man. You gotta let your body heal properly. You've been through surgery, they had to repair some torn muscles and stuff, so you won't be able to use your legs for a little while."

Dean just groaned, not happy with the situation at all. "Did I… is he…"

"Yeah, yeah, Dean, you killed him. I got someone else taking care of the body for me, just to make sure his spirit doesn't hang around to hurt anyone else."

Dean just nodded his head, obviously loosing his fight against the darkness that was trying to take over again. "This sucks!" he complained again as he allowed his body to relax and his eyes to close.

"Yeah, well it's better than the alternative."

Dean cracked opened one eye. "You sure about that? You aren't on this side of it." He then closed his eyes again, allowing sleep to take over.

The next few days came and went in a blur for both brothers. Dean slept more than he was awake. Sam was sure, with his stubbornness that he slept to keep away the pain that was obvious while he was awake, but his brother had insisted on not taking any meds, even though they still had a steady flow of pain meds running through his IV, which did help keep his pain at a level he could tolerate. After the third day of being in the hospital, Dean was getting restless. He hated hospitals, and hated being around doctors right now even more.

"Dean, you have to calm down, or they're going to give you medication to make you calm down."

Dean gave Sam a hateful look, but knew he was right, not like it mattered much, nothing Sam said was able to calm him.

"I know this has got to be hard for you, they know that too, that's why the doctor told the nurses to keep their presence at a minimum, but your anxiety level is getting way too high, your heartrate keeps picking up, you have to calm down."

"Damn it Sam! Just shut the hell up, okay? You don't think I don't know that? I can't okay? I can't calm down. I just want to get out of this damn place! I'm tired of it here, I'm fine! I've had worse, I just want to go."

"Dean, you haven't had worse, this is pretty bad, you need to let them take care of you, let your body heal properly."

Sam was trying, practically begging, for Dean to calm down, to allow his body and mind to rest. He needed his brother to understand the seriousness about his injuries, but didn't want to be specific in fear of upsetting him worse.

"Sam, I know what my injuries are, I was there, remember? I felt every damn bit of it! Every inkling of pain, yeah, I felt it, still do. I don't really care. I've felt worse, I don't want to be here!"

"I get it, okay…"

"NO! no you don't! You don't get it! You can't, you don't know, you don't understand!"

"Know what, Dean? What don't I understand?"

"Nothing, I just hate hospitals, okay."

"You've always hated hospitals, Dean. Why is that?" After Dean didn't answer Sam continued. "I remember, in Dad's journals, he said something about how you hated hospitals because you were hurt worse, or something like that, while you were there?"

Dean turned, looking at his brother, he took a minute before answering. "Dad was in the hospital. Injuries from a bad hunt. Anyhow, you were at Bobby's or Pastor Jim's, I don't remember, you were somewhere, not there."

Dean hated chick moments but needed something to keep his mind occupied, so he chose to entertain his brother's girly needs. "I was, I don't know, maybe 7 or 8? Anyhow, I got bored sitting in Dad's room, so I decided to walk around the hospital. I was young and curious, and dumb. I got myself somewhere I shouldn't have. There was this floor, or part of it, that was like a psych ward, and I went inside it, but once inside, I couldn't get out."

He huffed a laugh at himself for the irony in this. "There was this crazy psycho guy there, he saw me and knocked me out, took me to his room, and used his clothes to tie my hands and feet and gag me. He hit on me. That was what he was there for, he was abusive to anyone around him, but had killed his own kids by beating them to death. So, having the opportunity handed to him, he wasn't going to pass it up."

Dean's voice sounded weakened but he kept talking, needed to stay awake. "He took every second that he had me to take full advantage to beat on me, leaving me unconscious when he had to leave the room, for meal or group stuff, or whatever, I don't know. Anyhow, Dad was hurt pretty bad and spent 3 days in and out of consciousness, 2 of those days, I was missing, but he wasn't alert enough to notice, not until he came completely back around and asked the nurses about my whereabouts did anyone know I was missing."

Just like his dad, he should have been used to being ignored by then. "It took them an entire day to find me. In all, I was with that crazy son of a bitch for 3 days. Which, landed me in the hospital too, several broken ribs, a broken arm, bruises internal and external, lacerations, concussion, I don't know, that's really all I remember. But, it's enough for me to know I'm not safe in these places. I hate them." Dean paused before he added the final words. "They scare me."

Sam just nodded his head, another crappy thing to add to the life of Dean. "I…" Sam cleared his throat. "If I would have known, I wouldn't have sent you into the last case. I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean just shook his head. "No, I would have gone anyhow, yeah sure, I hated it. And, yes it brought up some shitty memories, but Sam, I had a job to do, and I did it. I've never let anything stop me from doing a job, and this was no different. I did what I had to do."

Dean paused again as a wave of pain came over his body. "I didn't expect it to end like this." He added as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, allowing the pain to settle and his body to escape back into the darkness of sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD

SPIDERWEBS, DUST, AND COBWEBS

CHAPTER 12

The weeks went by faster than Dean expected them to. He was healing well enough the doctor had removed the brace and allowed him to walk up and down the halls. That simple act, helped ease Dean's restlessness. He was thankful for that, but was ready to escape the walls that seemed to be closing in around him.

He had mentioned several times, to the doctor, about checking out AMA, but the doctor informed him that would not be a wise decision since he didn't feel he was healed well enough to remove the catheter. He knew, just the simple act of allowing himself to urinate would be more pain than he was wanting at this point.

It was bad enough Dean had started refusing anything that made him drowsy or feel 'not himself'. This made his sleep suffer. At times, the pain was bad enough it woke him up at night, or kept him from falling asleep. There were many nights he would wake in a cold sweat from a nightmare that plagued his dreams.

After 3 weeks in the hospital, Dean was convinced he couldn't handle it anymore, he had the all too familiar feeling of wanting to claw out of his own skin. He had convinced the doctor to release him. Not that he left him much of a choice, he threatened to remove everything himself and walk out, with or without permission.

The doctor gave Dean, and Sam, strict orders on the activities Dean was and was not allowed to do, along with special care instructions for his injuries. Dean was more than happy to leave that place, even though they really didn't have anywhere else to go.

Sam found a decent looking motel, not a complete roach motel like what they were used to. He figured the cleaner it was, the better it would be for Dean. After getting a room, he helped Dean from the car into the room. Of course, it wasn't without objections from Dean, telling Sam he could do it on his own.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean growled from the bathroom. He hadn't expected the pain that came when he urinated for the first time. He had to brace himself against the pain and walked out of the bathroom in a sweat. "Dude, that hurt a lot worse than the doctor said it would." He commented as he collapsed onto his bed.

Sam just shook his head at his brother, it was his own fault, his stubbornness put him into this situation, he would have been better off staying at the hospital, allowing his body to fully heal before trying to use it.

"You alright?" Sam questioned, seeing his brother curl into a ball on his bed.

"Yeah, just peachy." Dean grumbled out.

"Should have stayed in the hospital." Sam stated for what Dean was sure was the millionth time since they had left that place. Before Sam could even react, Dean sent a pillow flying across the room, smacking Sam in the side of the face.

"Shut up, bitch!"

"jerk!" Sam replied, throwing the pillow back at Dean.

"Hey Sam, I'm hungry, why don't you be a good care taker and go get me something to eat." Dean mumbled with his face pressed against the pillow. He wasn't really hungry, but he wanted Sam to leave. The pain he was feeling was increasing and he was finding himself needing to audibly release it.

"Whatever." Sam replied. "I'm only going because I'm hungry too, not because you told me to."

"Yeah, whatever." Dean mumbled.

As soon as he heard the door close he started to let out a groan of pain. When he heard his baby fire up, he rolled his body over, grasping his abdomen with both arms, clenching his jaw as tight as he could, and letting out a painful cry. He knew leaving the hospital wasn't the best idea, but he couldn't handle being there anymore, he quickly realized he didn't want to be here either. Another motel, another 4 walls and a ceiling to collapse around him. He couldn't ever remember feeling this desperate to escape his own body.

He was lost in his thoughts and the pain that radiated his body, he didn't hear the roaring of the engine, he didn't hear the clicking of the door, and he didn't hear his brother enter the room. He laid on the bed, curled into himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his abdomen, his face scrunched in pain, his eyes closed as tight as they would go, and his jaw locked. Small moans of pain escaped his lips.

"Dean!" Sam rushed to his brother's side. "Dean, you alright?"

"mmmmm." Dean groaned in pain. "Hurts, Sammy, bad."

"Okay, Dean. I know you don't want any, but I think you need to take something for pain." Sam got up and retrieved a cup of water and the pain meds the doctor had prescribed him. "Here, you need to take this, or I'm dragging you back to the hospital."

Dean didn't argue with that threat, he knew his brother was serious. He unwrapped one of his arms and tried to take the pill his brother was handing to him, he managed to get a hold of it and put it in his mouth, but when he attempted to drink the water, he found his hand was shaking too much to be able to keep a grip on it and it was spilling over the edge. Sam helped Dean drink the water down, swallowing the pill that would help with the pain.

"What hurts?" Sam questioned.

"Dunno, everything." Dean muttered.

"Dean, I need to know what's hurting you right now."

"My stomach, it's killing me. It hasn't quit hurting from when I used the bathroom."

"Damn it, okay."

"Blood, Sammy, there was blood. I don't know if it was supposed to be or not."

"Yeah." Sam reassured Dean. "The doctor said there probably would be some blood, at least the first few times you go. He also said the same thing when you have your first few bowel movements too, just keep that in mind, okay?"

Dean nodded his head.

"I hate this!"

"I hate it too."

"It sucks, more than you could possibly imagine. I hurt in places I didn't know was possible."

"Yeah, I saw you injured in ways I didn't think was possible."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"What? Why? You don't have anything to be sorry about."

"I didn't know, Sam, I didn't know how bad it was going to be. I didn't know the pain and torture he inflicted on them. If I did, I wouldn't have let him take me down there. And now, those images, they're stuck in your head, forever. I'm sorry."

"Dean! No one knew. There was no way of knowing. I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you sooner. It's my fault you had to stay with him for so long, I should have been able to get to you sooner, but I couldn't."

Dean shook his head. "Not your fault."

"Not yours either."

Dean gave a small grin, a way of accepting what his brother had said, agreeing that it wasn't either of their faults. "I'm still sorry that you have crappy images stuck in your head now."

"Yeah? And I'm sorry that you do too."

Dean nodded, again accepting what his brother said. "You know, we have screwed up lives, right?"

"Yeah, we do, I know."

"This is way too normal for us. When we can dismiss something like what happened as just another bad day, dude, our lives are a big ball of screwy messed up crap."

Sam laughed, knowing Dean was right. "Yeah, and as soon as you get better, we both know, we'll find ourselves in some other sticky mess, making our lives even crazier."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't change it for anything. As long as I have my little brother by my side and my baby taking us down the road, I'll take what lies ahead and push through it like we have everything else."

Sam sat in silence for a moment, letting a smile come across his face. "Yeah, me too, big brother, me too."

"Hey, Sam."

"Yeah?"

"Let's not do any cases that involve hospitals for a while, okay?"

"Yeah, I'll agree to that. You hungry?"

"Hell yeah, what'd you get?"

The boys ate their food, sitting on their beds in the cheap motel room. This was comfort to them. This was home. This was their lives, their memories. They knew, no matter what lied ahead for them, they would always end up right here, local take out food in some cheap motel room with their brother by their side and Baby parked outside the door.

The salt lines would always line the windows and doors no matter where they stayed. The places they left, usually wrecked in one way or another. Too many mirrors had seen the rage of a Winchester's fist as the glass shattered. Too many beds and dirty carpets had soaked up their blood, leaving a piece of them everywhere they stayed.

They didn't need a 3 bedroom home with 2.5 bathrooms and a 2 car garage with a white picket fence. They didn't need freshly mowed, green grass and little, perfectly trimmed hedges to be home. This. This was all they needed. The unwavering protection of each other, a cheap motel room, the comfort of their car, and the opened road. This was home. This was family.

This is what they fought for, day after day, injury after injury, they fought to survive. Not for the sake of others, but for each other. For this moment of silent bliss in the comfort of the familiar crappy food covering the crappy beds, with the best company they could ever ask for.


End file.
